Ashes of Evil
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: The Doctor, the Brigadier, and UNIT's scientific advisor Nina Spencer find themselves pitted against the Dictator of the Inferno Earth... [Discontinued due to lost data]
1. The Coming of the Stranger

DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise- the Doctor, the Brigadier, the TARDIS- belongs to the BBC. Anything you don't recognise- Time Scales, the Stranger- belongs to me. Nina, Chris, Matteo and Natalie belong to themselves, and I use their names here with their permission. Enjoy.  
  
FEEDBACK: Feel free to give it.  
  
Prologue  
The Coming of the Stranger  
  
February 24th 1974  
  
Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge- Stewart stood outside the door of the Doctor's lab, and reflected on how quiet it seemed to be.  
  
Normally, at this time of the day, there would be a heated talk of some kind or another going on between the Doctor, UNIT's Scientific Advisor, and his assistant, Jo Grant. Either there would be some kind of experiment going on that they were discussing, or the Doctor would be working on some part of the TARDIS or some alien machine he'd picked up on his travels and be explaining the function of to Jo Grant, his assistant. However, today there was nothing in the lab but quiet. Oh, there were a few small noises here and there, but they were simply the noise any tool would make while working at some piece of equipment. Nobody in the lab was talking, laughing, joking, reminiscing...  
  
Sighing a little, the Brigadier opened the door a crack and looked inside it. The Doctor was just sitting at his desk, his back to the door, working away at what seemed to be his sonic screwdriver with a more normal screwdriver. However, given that the Brigadier didn't know what the TARDIS's workings looked like, he couldn't be absolutely certain. He didn't bother going over to take a look, either. Even if technology had been his forte, he knew that he simply would never be able to acquire the experience that the Doctor had.  
  
The Doctor may have a dress sense that only an Edwardian dandy would consider going out in otherwise, and appear to be a man in his mid- fifties with an early head of white hair, but he had been going around the Universe for at least a couple of hundred years, from what the Brigadier had heard, and could remember practically everything about it.  
  
Looking over to the corner, he saw the TARDIS lodged in its customary corner, its usual blue Police Box form standing out against the white walls of the Doctor's current lab.  
  
Just then, the Doctor put his screwdriver down on the table, lay back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes were shut, and he seemed to be thinking hard about something. Deciding he'd never have a better chance to get involved, the Brigadier coughed politely.  
  
Opening his eyes, the Doctor turned around and looked back at the Brigadier.  
  
"Ah, Brigadier," he said, his voice sounding more cheerful than he appeared to be himself, "good to see you back."  
  
The Brigadier simply nodded in reply. "How's things over here, Doctor?" Following the Doctor's defeat of BOSS, a mad supercomputer intent on linking itself to every major computer on Earth and thus acquiring ultimate power, the Doctor's assistant, Jo Grant, had gotten engaged to naturalist Professor Cliff Jones. The Doctor, for reasons known only to him, had left the rest of the UNIT command crew at the celebration party shortly after it had begun, and had driven off back to HQ. Now recovered from the hangover the drinks had caused them, the Brigadier and Sergeant Benton had returned to UNIT, although Captain Mike Yates had called in to report that he wouldn't be coming in today, to discover that the Doctor had remained in his lab all night.  
  
"Oh, just the usual," the Doctor said, as he turned around and began to fiddle with the sonic screwdriver again. "A few reports in; nothing we haven't seen before. It's all over there," he added, waving his left hand towards another table in the room. The Brigadier glanced towards the table, and that there was fairly large pile of papers lying on top of it; they vaguely reminded his of a few of the shorter books he'd read in his lifetime.  
  
"'A few reports', Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, walking over to the table and picking them up as he spoke.  
  
"Hmm?" the Doctor said, glancing over at the Brigadier. Automatically, his eyes drifted over to the pile of papers on the table. "Oh. Well, it may have been an understatement, but I wasn't really paying attention to all that," he commented, as he pulled a small jewellers eyepiece out of his pocket, slipped onto his right eye, and continued to work.  
  
"You know, Doctor," the Brigadier said, as he waved the files above his head, "if you aren't going to look at this paperwork at some point-"  
  
Suddenly, they heard a knocking at the door.  
  
"Come in," the Doctor said, still studying the sonic screwdriver. The Brigadier sighed, somehow knowing that he'd need to talk to the Doctor about paperwork some other time now.  
  
The door opened, and Sergeant Benton entered the room, carrying a large brown folder.  
  
"Doctor, I'm sorry to have to bother you at a time like this..." Benton began.  
  
"Oh, no worries, Sergeant. I need something to take my mind off this anyway. Well, what's up now?" the Doctor asked, turning around to face Benton as the Brigadier listened in as well.  
  
"Recent events in Hampton, Doctor," Benton said, passing the folder to the Doctor. "The details are in there. I thought it might interest you."  
  
"Ah, thank you Sergeant," The Doctor said, studying the file with some brief interest. The Brigadier caught only a few words here and there, "Bank...minute...baffled...no sign...500 000," at this the Doctor looked up. "Is this accurate, Sergeant?"  
  
"Down to the last detail, Doctor," Benton replied.  
  
"Thank you for that, Benton. Come on then Brigadier," The Doctor said, getting up from his seat and heading for the door.  
  
"Doctor, what in blazes is up with you now?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"That report was of a bank robbery that occurred in Hampton only a few days ago, Brigadier," the Doctor explained as he headed for the car park.  
  
"A bank robbery? Why is that so important as to concern us?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"Read it yourself," the Doctor said, shrugging on his large coat and heading for the door.  
  
The Brigadier began to read the report. The Doctor has a point- it was certainly interesting. Apparently, one minute the bank staff were working away at changing the vault combination, and the next they were suddenly missing almost five hundred thousand pounds from the vault, which they only discovered when they checked it after spending ten minutes talking with a customer.  
  
"I see what you mean, Doctor," the Brigadier said, looking up at his friend. "Any theories?"  
  
"Just two," the Doctor said. "Someone has either developed a way to stop time, or they've got something that slows Time down so much enough so there isn't really a difference between that and stopping it."  
  
"You mean like that affair with TOMTIT?" the Brigadier asked, as the Doctor headed for Bessie.  
  
"Exactly, but probably on a smaller scale," the Doctor said, getting into Bessie's driver's seat. "Harnessing a Chronovore isn't easy at the best of times, and I doubt that the Master was foolish enough to leave his equipment lying around."  
  
"Shall I get the troops out?" the Brigadier asked, as the Doctor put his seat belt on.  
  
"No, not until we know what we're dealing with, Brigadier. I'll call you when I know what the situation is," the Doctor said, as he tore off out towards the village. "Have them send over the TARDIS!" he called back to the Brigadier as he left the car park.  
  
"Assuming you're still alive when it gets there..." the Brigadier commented, as Bessie vanished over the horizon.  
  
*****  
  
The Doctor parked Bessie in front of the bank, and entered the door with a determined air.  
  
"Ah, hello sir. How may I help you?" the young man behind the counter asked.  
  
"I'm here about the bank robbery that occurred recently, mister..." the Doctor said, checking the nametag on the man's shirt, "Steve. Can you give me any new information, Steve?"  
  
"Well, nothing really, sir," Steve said, trying to deal with the outfit the Doctor was wearing. "Besides, I don't even know who you are..."  
  
"Oh, sorry. Well, this should...oh, hang on, I left that back in the lab," the Doctor muttered, checking a pocket. "Well then, contact UNIT. You'll see I am who I say I am,"  
  
"And that is?" Steve asked.  
  
"Oh, right, sorry about that. I'm Unpaid Scientific Advisor to the British branch of UNIT," the Doctor said, straightening his coat. "Took the job about four years ago, and still doing it,"  
  
"I'll just need to confirm that, sir. I'll be back in a minute," Steve said, heading for the office behind the checkout. After the Doctor had waited for a few minutes, Steve came back, looking to the Doctor like a man who'd just had a vision of an angel that had given him every greatest secret in the Universe.  
  
"I'm... sorry, sir. If I'd known who you were, I'd have..." he began.  
  
"Oh, never mind that now, old fellow," the Doctor smiled. "You were only doing your job. Now, about that robbery..."  
  
"Of course sir. This way please," Steve said, guiding the Doctor towards the vault.  
  
*****  
  
As the Doctor had initially suspected, the vault had all the signs of having been opened using time-bending tools. But, he reflected, there was no harm in making sure before the TARDIS arrived. He didn't want to make himself look like an idiot in front of the Brigadier for getting all jumpy about potential time manipulation over a simple bank robbery.  
  
"Was this door definitely locked when someone last saw it?" he asked, looking over at Steve as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver.  
  
"Yes sir- we checked and double-checked. There is no way someone could have entered without being a ghost," Steve said, trying to make a light joke, despite his obvious worry about the situation.  
  
"That could be an option, I suppose," the Doctor commented to himself, as he activated the sonic screwdriver. "Still that would still leave certain residual traces around the door where it went through it. Maybe..." he muttered, scanning the door with the sonic screwdriver. To both his relief and his horror, it emitted its simple static crackle, with none of the higher screeches that it would if intangibility had been used on the door.  
  
"What does that mean, sir?" Steve asked.  
  
"That my worst fears are confirmed," the Doctor said under his breath, putting his sonic screwdriver back in his pocket before looking back at Steve. "Thanks again, young fellow. I'll be sure to let your superiors know of the assistance you gave me," he said, heading for the door.  
  
"Oh, thanks," Steve said really unsure as to what else he could say.  
  
*****  
  
Outside, the Doctor headed straight for the nearest payphone. He was about to put in the money, when he suddenly stopped.  
  
"Now, where did I leave that paper?" he said, checking his pockets for the UNIT phone number, which he'd written on a piece of paper after Jo had commented that he never remembered simple phone numbers. . Finding nothing there, he shrugged and headed back to Bessie.  
  
"Might as well wait about until the TARDIS arrives..." the Doctor decided, lying back in the driver's seat, closing his eyes, and beginning to meditate. He knew that, if his theory were correct, he would need a lot of energy stored and ready to use to deal with this problem.  
  
*****  
  
Some time later- about an hour later, by his reckoning- the Doctor awoke, and saw that the TARDIS had just appeared. Sergeant Benton was driving the car, as the Doctor acknowledged when he heard it.  
  
"Ah, hello there Sergeant," the Doctor said, getting out of Bessie and heading towards the van.  
  
"Hello there, Doctor. I hope this is helpful?" Benton asked, indicating the TARDIS.  
  
"Quite, Sergeant. Thank you for bringing it," the Doctor smiled, taking the key out of his pocket and heading for the TARDIS.  
  
"Should I stay? Extra help could come in handy," Benton said as the Doctor slid the key into the door.  
  
"Well, I'll think about it, Sergeant. Let me just check this out..." the Doctor said, as he entered the TARDIS. Secretly, however, he made up his mind that he'd let Benton come along even if his help wasn't needed. He could use a little company.  
  
Checking around the control room, the Doctor reflected on all the times he'd dealt with time problems in this old thing, with it's central Time Rotor, hexagonal control console, and the reliable scanner. When was the last time problem again... oh yes, that incident with the time fracture and Caresh... then he had to stop himself, because that only brought back memories of Jo, which was what he was trying to get over in the first place by coming down here.  
  
Shaking off the memory, the Doctor began to activate the main scanner. Looking over at the scanner, he noted that it had activated, but was currently showing nothing but what was outside, since he hadn't activated the scanner yet.  
  
"Well, soon settle that, eh, old thing?" the Doctor said to the TARDIS, as he activated the Time Scanner. This was mainly used by any CIA Time Lords checking a planet to see if there were any time machines on the planet in question, shifting to different colours depending on what kind of time machine it was. "Please, don't go green..." he muttered under his breath. Green was used if the time machine in question was another TARDIS.  
  
The scanner showed a green light, about a few blocks away, but still relatively near Hampton centre, where the bank was and where the TARDIS was currently located.  
  
"Drat," the Doctor muttered.  
  
"What's the situation, Doctor?" Benton said, poking his head into the TARDIS console room.  
  
"What I thought it might be," the Doctor said, looking out from under the console. "It appears I'll be needing your help after all, Sergeant. I certainly need some force."  
  
"Really, Doctor? What's the situation?" Benton asked, getting into the TARDIS.  
  
"Rouge Time Lord, I think," the Doctor explained, as he began to pilot the TARDIS towards the source of the energy. "I don't think it's the Master, but anything's possible. Besides, I've encountered at least three others- the Monk, the War Chief, and Omega. Oh, you'd better take this," he added, passing Benton a small multi-coloured cube. One side was red, another yellow, a third green, a fourth blue, a fifth purple, and a sixth black. "Push just the blue side. Sergeant. It emits a shockwave that disables electrical appliances for approximately ten or twenty seconds, and can daze the central nervous systems of humans or Time Lords for the same time span if they haven't shut their eyes before the blast."  
  
"Right. Oh, Doctor..." Benton said, indicating the Time Rotor, which had stopped.  
  
"Oh, right. Thank you, Sergeant. Well then, on we go," the Doctor said, picking up the sonic screwdriver and heading out the door, followed by Benton.  
  
However, the second the two of them had left the TARDIS, the Doctor wondered if he'd made a mistake. The TARDIS was inside a large empty warehouse, with not even a box present that could be a disguised TARDIS, never mind a slight curve in the wall.  
  
"What went wrong, Doctor?" Benton asked, picking up his gun.  
  
"Oh, do put that down, Sergeant. That won't do much good. Just remember to use what I gave you when the need arises..." the Doctor said, suddenly looking ahead and spotting a small black box with a green light blinking on the wall.  
  
"Wait a minute..." the Doctor muttered, walking towards the black box and looking at it. Suddenly, he looked back at Benton, a horrified expression on his face.  
  
"Back to the TARDIS, Sergeant! Now!" the Doctor yelled, beginning to run towards the Police Box.  
  
Deciding that obeying the Doctor would probably be the best thing he could do right now, Benton turned around and began to run after the Doctor. However, suddenly his vision began to mist over and he felt himself falling down. Looking ahead, he saw that the Doctor was in a similar state as well, but was still holding himself up, even though he was rapidly collapsing...  
  
Then Benton fell down flat onto the ground as his body surrendered to the gas.  
  
*****  
  
Some time later, the Doctor awoke, in a TARDIS and in manacles.  
  
Looking around himself, the Doctor noticed that he was chained up in what appeared to be that old prison room in the TARDIS that he'd ejected after he took the old thing away from Gallifrey, which at least indicated that his enemy wasn't superior to him TARDIS-wise. He glanced to his right, and saw Benton nearby in a similar condition to him, but the difference being that Benton was unconscious. The Doctor also noticed that the TARDIS was nearby, so at least it was all right. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he might still have his sonic screwdriver, and tried to reach his pocket.  
  
"Looking for this?" a voice said. Looking up, the Doctor saw a tall figure holding the sonic screwdriver, dressed in military outfits that resembled what Adolf Hitler had worn while in power, but although he had the Nazi swastika on his arm, he had a different sign underneath the swastika instead of the plain white circle the Doctor had seen in Nazi Germany.  
  
"The Seal of Rassilon..." the Doctor said to himself. It was no comfort to know that he'd been right about that- in fact, that was the one thing he'd hoped he'd been wrong about.  
  
"Correct," the man smiled, walking out of the shadows. It wasn't much of an improvement- the Doctor still couldn't make out his face, since he appeared to be wearing a black balaclava over his head. "Judging by what I know of this planet, you'd be that renegade Time Lord called the...Doctor, is it?"  
  
"It is. So, what should I call you, old chap?" the Doctor asked.  
  
"Just...the Stranger," the man said. The Doctor couldn't make out his appearance behind the balaclava, but he could have sworn that the man was smirking a little. "I believe you're here to investigate those robberies I've been committing recently. Honestly, you have the powers to wander around the Universe and do what you want, where you want, and when you want at will and you investigate a time-stopping bank robber? Why do it?" he said, directly addressing the Doctor.  
  
"As I said back in my previous life," the Doctor replied, looking his enemy straight in the eye, "there are some corners of the Universe that have bred the most terrible things. Things that act against everything we believe in. They must be fought. That's why I do this, Stranger. Because I feel I must."  
  
"Hah!" laughed the Stranger, clapping his left hand to his head in amazement. "You do all that, even though you've seen where it got you in the end? Almost no real change in the universal scale of good and evil, and exile on a backward world that's constantly under attack!"  
  
"Only for a brief period," the Doctor stated, glaring at the Stranger. "I was forgiven for that after I saved the Time Lords from Omega. I'm free now. And by the way, I may not have done too much on the cosmic scale, but I have managed to prevent bad situations getting even worse and resulting in even larger loss of life."  
  
"Yes, I've heard it all before. Oh, by the way, you claim you're free, but has it ever occurred to you that the Time Lords still use you to do their dirty work since they won't do it themselves! Can't you see you're just a scrapgoat for them as far as they're concerned?" the Stranger said, laughing.  
  
"Maybe they force me into some things," the Doctor said, looking directly at the Stranger, "but I chose to do those things in the end. I always have."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before, and it's really not impressive," The Stranger said, smirking. "Look at us- you're just the Time Lord's dogsbody, doing work that they don't want to do themselves because they don't want to get their hands dirty, and I'm having the time of my lives! Just by rewiring my temporal circuits, I can get away with anything- bank robbery, murder, sabotage, you name it!" laughed the Stranger.  
  
"Am I meant to be scared? Was that in your schedule for torturing me? Because if so, it isn't working. In my time I've been threatened by experts, you know, and you're really not very threatening," the Doctor replied, facing the Stranger.  
  
"No, by now, on my original schedule, you weren't mean to be scared," The Stranger explained, straightening out his shirt.  
  
"Really? What was I mean to be by now?" the Doctor asked casually.  
  
"Dead," the Stranger said, and pulled out a gun.  
  
As it was pointed at him, the Doctor identified as one of those Gallifreyian Patrol Stasers developed by the Celestial Intervention Agency before he'd left for his exile, and which he'd once been offered, but had declined. If it were fired at him, regeneration wouldn't even be an option for recovery.  
  
Sneaking a peak at his right, he saw that Benton was almost awake now. He also saw that cube he'd given Benton poking out of Benton's right pocket- evidently, the Stranger hadn't thought to check Benton for anything that he could use against him.  
  
And therein lies my last hope... the Doctor thought. Gritting his teeth, he kicked out with his legs, thankfully free, and knocked the Stranger off his feet.  
  
"Sergeant!" the Doctor yelled, as the Stranger began to clamber to his feet. "Use the cube I gave you!"  
  
Benton looked up and nodded at the Doctor.  
  
"Cube? What cube? You tell what cube you're referring to! A bomb, right?" said the Stranger, pointing his gun at the Doctor. "You entrusted your hope of defeating me with a human? You're more pathetic than I thought!"  
  
"Not the means of your destruction, Stranger," the Doctor said, as the Stranger began to pull the trigger. "Simply a method of delaying you. Now, Sergeant!" he cried. Benton's thumb slammed down onto the blue side of the cube.  
  
*****  
  
The results from that one act were just incredible. The whole prison room lit up with a dazzling blue flash, as the cube exploded and released a terrible electromagnetic pulse, which could even damage humanoids. The Doctor had known what was coming, and he'd given Benton the basic idea that he had to shut his eyes, and the two of them were therefore unharmed, but the Stranger took the full brunt of the blast into his face.  
  
"AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" he screamed, clutching his head beneath the balaclava.  
  
"Back to the TARDIS!!!!" the Doctor yelled at Benton, as the two of them charged towards the Police Box. Quickly, the Doctor pulled the key out and, although his hands were shaking with the stress and recent gas exposure, damaging even to Time Lords, he managed to open the door. As he and Benton dived in, Benton barely managed to close the door as the Stranger dived towards them.  
  
"Are you alright, Sergeant?" the Doctor asked, as he quickly studied the TARDIS instruments and turned on the scanner.  
  
"I'm fine. Doctor, shouldn't we be more concerned about...him?" Benton asked, indicating the scanner, which was currently showing the Stranger who was trying to find his gun, the cube having blinded him briefly.  
  
"Oh, him. Yes, I know, I'm currently trying to tap into his TARDIS's directional circuits and steer him away from our own TARDIS myself, since he seems unwilling to do so," the Doctor said, checking the instruments as he pulled some levers. "Honestly, and they say this old thing's in bad shape. His old TARDIS barely even has the spatial circuits working, and never mind the temporal circuits..." he muttered. Suddenly, Benton jumped back as a second TARDIS console appeared beside him.  
  
"Doctor, what's going on here?!" Benton said, when suddenly, the TARDIS shook, knocking Benton to the ground and forcing the Doctor to grab onto the second TARDIS console to steady himself.  
  
"Hey!" the Stranger shouted from the scanner. "What are you pathetic wimps doing to my TARDIS??!! I demand an explanation!!"  
  
"Oh, shut up," the Doctor said, as he turned the scanner off before turning his attention to the TARDIS consoles. "Now then, if I reverse the polarity of both his and my neutron flow, route it through what's left of his temporal circuits, eject about twenty-five, maybe twenty-eight percent of his TARDIS, and then key in the coordinates for the edge of the Time Spiral, that should have him out of our lives forever..." the Doctor said, as he suddenly focused all his attention on the one control panel.  
  
"What are you trying to do, Doctor?" Benton asked, as he picked up his gun and pointed it at the door, in case the Stranger got in.  
  
"Oh, no need for the gun, Sergeant. The TARDIS exists in a state of multidimensional temporal grace, so weapons are ineffective, since nobody really exists while they're in here. Besides, I doubt the Stranger will be able to get in here. To answer your original question, I'm trying to send the Stranger to the edge of the Time Spiral, which basically means he'll be trapped outside of Time itself- nothing there but the Eternals, the Gods of my people. They should give him what punishment he deserves," The Doctor said, as he pushed one final button on the second console, and it vanished.  
  
"Watch the results over there," the Doctor said, indicating the now- reactivated scanner. On it was what looked like another version of the TARDIS inside a massive blue tornado of energy, and the other TARDIS was spiralling away from the TARDIS and heading for the edge. Suddenly, just as it reached the edge, it vanished from view.  
  
"Well, that was easy enough," Benton commented, as he put his gun back into its holster.  
  
"Yes, it was," the Doctor commented. "Odd, really. You'd have thought his TARDIS would have attempted something to defend him. And that Police Box shape- why was that there..." he said, almost to himself, but then seemed to change his mind and turned to the remaining console.  
  
"Home, Sergeant?" he said, looking back at Benton.  
  
"Just back to the truck will do for now, Doctor," Benton said, smiling at his friend.  
  
"The truck it is, Sergeant. Here we go," the Doctor smiled, keying in the coordinates. Just before he started the TARDIS, he suddenly felt something stir in the back of his mind- like a calling of danger from a past incarnation, but not that at all- too distant, and there was no direct link to his former selves, since there was no sense of anyone with them. Almost as if it were a calling from a possible past self...  
  
Could it be...?, the Doctor thought to himself, before dismissing that thought. True, he could have come through from there, but the Doctor had seen no sign of anyone who could have been him there. Besides, the Doctor thought to himself as he set the TARDIS back towards Hampton, it was unlikely he could have gotten through, anyway. His TARDIS wouldn't even have been able to jump through the barriers, and even with his TARDIS being able to pull that off, he had only barely escaped that inferno.  
  
That horrible, all-consuming, planet-sized inferno...  
  
*****  
  
"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!" cried the Stranger, diving into the control room, clutching his TARDIS console as it hurtled towards the edge of the Time Spiral.  
  
True, he was slightly hampered by the fact that his ship's agony was translated into pain in his own mind by the telepathic circuits, vie a link he'd never found the time to get rid off. Why hadn't he stolen one of those new-fangled Type Seventies they'd developed on Gallifrey, instead of this useless Type Forty? At least then he might have been able to escape that jerk of a Time Lord!  
  
Well, all right, he'd been a complete jerk in his first persona and thought that this thing would do at the time, being so arrogant as to believe he couldn't be caught, but that still was no excuse for that old guy's idiotic behaviour!  
  
"WORK!!!! Work, you stone-aged piece of JUNK!!!!" he cried, waving his hand wildly about as the TARDIS hurtled faster and faster towards the edge of the Time Spiral. If this doesn't work, the Stranger thought to himself, as his hand began to move closer and closer to its destination, there's no telling what'll happen to me if I break the edge of the Time Spiral at this speed...  
  
"Got it!!!!!" he yelled in triumph, as his hand finally hit what it had been searching for- the Fast Return/Emergency Dematerialisation Switch, a switch that would send him to either his last real-universe position or near to it. Rapidly, he pressed it, not caring where he ended up, so as he ended up somewhere.  
  
Suddenly, the TARDIS jolted rapidly, knocking him against the wall. Swearing loudly, the Stranger staggered back to his feet, as the familiar sound of materialisation filled the control room. He'd made it...  
  
Blinking a little, the Stranger checked the console- it looked all right, baring the crack in the Time Rotor and the damage done all over two of the panels, but they'd already been there, so the Stranger ignored them. Apart from that, baring the friction damage, it was remarkably intact.  
  
Smiling, the Stranger checked his instruments, and groaned. His face took on a more, sullen, depressed expression at once.  
  
"Blast," he muttered to himself. The temporal circuits had finally given out on him, and no surprise too, with the recent strain that white-haired dandy had put them under by sending this old thing as far as he had.  
  
Even the spatial circuits were barely functioning, only capable of short hops through Space- two miles would be the best he could do, and even that would be risky. There were indications of a lot more damage, but that appeared to be the worst of it.  
  
The scanner had also finally broken, and was currently showing nothing but static. Still, the Stranger had to admit that he could have arrived at a worse date and place than where he had arrived, according to the yearometer, one of the few working things in this dump now- Earth, February 1st, 1992, in some nameless mansion that was relatively near London.  
  
Deciding that he might as well take a look at the outside, the Stranger operated the door control and walked out. The mansion looked like it had been through an explosion at some point, with several of the walls damaged and ivy growing all over. Checking his TARDIS, which was charred around some areas and had the light on top broken, the Stranger couldn't help but wonder if it had just happened, or if the damage to the Police Box shell was the result of the recent friction it had gone through in the Vortex.  
  
However, more likely it was the friction- the fact that the light on top was broken suggested that it had gone through a great deal more than even this nigh-on indestructible shell could handle. The Stranger made a mental note to try and see if he could get that damn chameleon circuit working again here- this old thing was getting to be worse then useless.  
  
Either way, it could have been worse- his TARDIS could have been sent right through the Spiral and fallen into the hands of those bloody Eternals he'd heard so much about on Gallifrey. They wouldn't have been all that merciful; they had a reputation for taunting non- immortal beings, even Time Lords such as himself. But, even though he was trapped on Earth with little chance of escape, thanks to that stupid TARDIS, at least this way he was alive.  
  
And while I'm alive, the Stranger thought to himself, I can conquer anything.  
  
For the first time since he'd arrived on this backwater planet, all the way back in 1867, the Stranger began to relax.  
  
Finally, he was in a time that had everything he needed and didn't know they had the potential to make what he needed. A time that had little or no knowledge of aliens, and would be facing a relatively rough decade- at least, in original history. That was something he would have to alter the second he could.  
  
In this time, he could repair his TARDIS, conquer this Earth, annihilate this Universe's Time Lords, and then conquer it all. This was truly a perfect Universe.  
  
And the best bit of it all, thought the Stranger, as he walked back into his TARDIS, is that that old fool of a Doctor never even came close to working out who I really was... 


	2. Cortez Away

DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise- the Doctor, the Brigadier, the TARDIS- belongs to the BBC. Anything you don't recognise- Time Scales, the Stranger- belongs to me. Nina, Chris, Matteo and Natalie belong to themselves, and I use their names here with their permission. Enjoy.  
  
FEEDBACK: Feel free to give it.  
  
Chapter One  
Cortez Away  
  
February 24th 2003  
  
"Honestly," Nina groaned to herself, looking over the papers in front of her. "An entire universe of aliens, and the most exciting thing that's happened to me since joining is that brief problem with the Kraals and that conference, and that doesn't make up for the rest of it..."  
  
Nina Spencer, scientific advisor to UNIT-UK since almost 1999, was bored. Many people, when they first saw her, thought she looked slightly Chinese, but a few more regarded her as looking a little Portuguese. Her hair was long and dark, but was known to look slightly brown if the light hit it the right way, and it had a few streaks of dark red hair in the centre. Her eyes were brown, she had soft moist- looking lips, and, whenever she smiled, or someone looked into her eyes, it often struck an observer that she was incredibly beautiful. Currently, she was wearing a purple silk blouse, dark trousers, black shoes, and her white lab coat was hanging off the back of her chair. She also wore two silver rings, one on each hand. She was almost twenty-five, but felt like she was nearer a hundred, with all the burdens she felt she was dealing with.  
  
So much paperwork, so little time to do it, she'd been late in today after her car ran out of petrol and then got caught in a traffic jam, and to crown it all off, there was nothing interesting to look forward to on the horizon, and almost nothing interesting to reminisce about. The only real bright point in this job had been that UN conference last year, when those Kraals attacked the building. Not only had it been interesting, but it had given her a chance to work beside a living legend at UNIT. UNIT-UK's oldest and most brilliant Scientific Advisor. The Doctor...  
  
Nina smiled a little as she remembered that affair. UNIT had been asked to provide security for a secret conference over that recent difficulty with the Fourth Reich (Fourth Reich? She still couldn't believe that.) and the Doctor had been called in to assist the problem. Nina had been hired to inform the Doctor and his assistant Mel, called to the conference by the equally legendary Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, about what had happened to the Fourth Reich crisis since the Doctor was involved, and give them any help if they needed it. True, Nina reflected, the Doctor could do with a new fashion designer- who created that frock coat of his anyway? Yellow and pink lapels? Yikes!- but Nina still couldn't help feeling proud of working with him. All those threats he'd stopped- Cybermen, Vampires, Zygons, Waro- at times it seemed endless.  
  
And then the Kraals had replaced the delegate from UNIT-SEA with one of their androids. Nina still recalled, vividly, what had happened at the conference, even through it was over a year ago. Those Kraals had almost managed to set up everything so that the UNIT-SEA delegate android would send out weapons that could have annihilated all of UNIT, or at least crippled it. A bit of work on Nina's mobile phone on the part of the Doctor had lead to the android delegate shorting out when the Doctor used the phone to hack into the android's CPU and trick it into accidentally activating the weapons while they were still on board the Kraal ship. He and Mel had than departed, leaving Nina to deal with all the required explanations of what had happened, not to mention all the paperwork required. Still, Nina hadn't really minded that much- the paperwork may have been boring, but it gave her a chance to reorganize herself and get back down to the more typical normality of life after all that. For a while there she'd thought that she was going to die, and she needed something nice and easy to get herself back down to Earth, figuratively speaking. Still, she had to admit, even though it had been dangerous, she'd give anything to have that kind of experience happen to her again.  
  
Can't complain, I suppose, she thought to herself, flipping through some paperwork idly, trying to pass the time. Some soldiers in UNIT spend years on the job and do nothing. Now, what have we got here...? Nina pulled out the next file, and froze the second she saw the heading.  
  
ATTACK OF THE NEDENAH?  
  
Nina stared. Nedenah attacking innocent civilians? The notion was simply ridiculous. She knew all about the Nedenah, her uncle had served in UNIT as a Captain when they found the Nedenah being held in the CIA bunker. They were harmless, a very peaceful race, and she still recalled the description that he gave. He'd never seen them himself, but Brigadier Lethbridge- Stewart had given a good description of them to his troops after the crisis had been dealt with, the way he always did. Her uncle had told it to her with the perfect detail that kept him going in his one-time job as a journalist. These days he spent most of his time in a Buddhist meditation centre. Good old Mike...  
  
...The Nedenah were about your size, maybe a bit bigger or smaller, really hard to say. They had grey, wrinkly skin, large green eyes, and were very slender and hairless, with barrel-like chests, and slightly protruding mouths. A very peaceful race, they provided the key to victory that we needed to save the Earth and outwit the Waro...  
  
Ever since that time, Nina had wanted to join UNIT and meet creatures like those Nedenah. She had sometimes wondered if she would meet the Nedenah themselves, but she'd never imagined the meeting would be like this.  
  
She began to read through the file instantly. She had to know the details.  
  
ATTACK OF THE NEDENAH?  
  
On February 21st, 2003, in between 2010 and 2045 hours, a Nedenah, a race that little is officially known about barring what was told to us by the CIA man known to UNIT only as Control, brutally attacked an innocent civilian while he was out walking around his farm.  
  
The man in question, Mr Paul Edwards Fink, was out for a walk around his farm. He had finished milking the cows, and his wife, Anne, had rounded up all the sheep and the pigs. Anne had gone to bed at 2000, having finished everything, but Paul felt that he should take a look around just to make sure everything was taken care of. Anne looked out of her window at 2010 and saw him walking towards the barn, presumably to look over the cows.  
  
After 15 minutes, Paul still had not returned from his walk, and Anne decided that she'd have to go and look for him. She went out the door after taking five minutes to change, and eventually located her husband behind the pigsty. Standing over him was am alien that, from the description given to us, we are certain was a Nedenah. It was standing over Paul, who was missing his left arm from below the elbow and whose right leg from below the knee was horribly ripped. From the description given to us, it appears that the Nedenah was holding an energy sword while it stood over Paul's body, a weapon they have been known on occasion to wield. However, the sword appeared to have run out of power when Anne arrived, given that it was only the hilt to be seen, and not the blade itself. Realizing that it was defenceless when facing her, the Nedenah ran off to a nearby pigsty. Ann tried to chase after it, but when she arrived at the sty the Nedenah had dived into a Police Box, the kind used as a disguise for the ship belonging to the rogue Time Lord acquainted with UNIT, known only as 'The Doctor.' No sooner had the Nedenah gotten into the Police Box, then it disappeared.  
  
Shaken, frightened, and concerned for her husband's life, Anne ran back to her house and called the ambulance and the police, who diverted their call to UNIT after hearing her story. She then gave us these details, and we intend to act on them accordingly to protect the public from any danger. This state of affairs shall not be allowed to continue. From this point on, UNIT operatives are authorised to shoot on sight at any sign of the Doctor, whichever version of him it is.  
  
Nina stared at the report in her hands.  
  
"I don't believe it..." she said, in a very shocked-sounding voice. Which she was, come to think of it. None of the information in the report made sense, from where they claimed that the Nedenah were well known for using energy swords. They'd never used any kind of hand-held weapons, not even to try and defend themselves from attackers. And the part about the Doctor helping attacking aliens was even more absurd! He simply didn't do that sort of thing! And besides, actually assuming more of this sort of thing was going to happen again after only one time was just too paranoid for UNIT. What was going on with this thing?  
  
Nina stood up, brushing down her purple blouse and white lab coat. She had to give her boss a piece of her mind about letting this file even get written in the first place. I mean, all those inaccuracies! she thought to herself  
  
Nina walked out of the lab door and turned right, heading directly towards her commander's office. Brigadier Winifred Bambera had been in the job for some time now, and Nina knew she could be relied upon to believe her story.  
  
And get whoever wrote that report fired on the spot, Nina thought to herself. I mean, anyone who goes around claiming that the Nedenah use energy swords shouldn't be in UNIT in the first place, if they've never even looked at the data on the Waro invasion!  
  
Arriving at the door, Nina opened the door. "Sorry to burst in on you like this, Brigadier, but-" she began, and then suddenly stopping in mid- sentence.  
  
Because the person behind the desk was not the familiar form of Brigadier Bambera, dressed in her usual khaki military outfit. Instead it was a man with blond hair and brown eyes, with a deep tan and wearing a business suit. That was the main thing that informed Nina something was wrong- UNIT commanders traditionally always wore a fighting uniform in case of a crisis. Even before he opened his mouth, Nina guessed that this man would be the kind of person who sent others to do his work for him while he did nothing at all.  
  
"Ah, Miss Spencer, " the man said, smiling at her in a way that gave Nina the unnerving impression that he was about to bite her neck. "I gather, from the way you charged into my office and started apologising to Miss Bambera, that you are unaware of the present situation here at UNIT?"  
  
"Situation?" Nina asked. "What situation? I was late in today, and, well..."  
  
"Ah, I see," the man smiled. "You missed the announcement then. Let me introduce myself- I am Colonel James Disch, currently serving as temporary commander of UNIT-UK."  
  
"Temporary? What was wrong with the permanent one, and how temporary is temporary?" Nina asked.  
  
"Until the end of the recent alien crisis," Disch replied, giving Nina that same unnerving smile again.  
  
"Crisis? You mean that situation with the Nedenah?" Nina asked. "Talking of which, about that file on the situation-"  
  
"Inaccurate?" Disch asked politely. "We thought it would be. That's why we didn't bother replacing you- you do know the most about the threats faced by UNIT over the years, after all. I've always found it's the Scientific Advisors that have access to that sort of information-"  
  
"Wait a minute, did you say replaced?" Nina asked, interrupting. Disch looked at Nina with a hard glare in his eyes, but compared to his smile it was like a calm breeze in the air.  
  
"Yes, Miss Spencer. The Cortez Project runs things at UNIT HQ now," Disch replied.  
  
"Really?" Nina said, as she rapidly wracked her brains for any reference to the Cortez Project.  
  
Then it occurred to her. A file, telling of an incident that UNIT- SEA had dealt with in Hong Kong, two years before she officially joined UNIT. Dealt with by the Doctor and his old friend Sarah Jane Smith, the Cortez Project was a branch of UNIT that operated within UNIT without the knowledge of the main council. Their view on protecting the Earth was simply 'If it's alien, kill it,' even if the aliens were on Earth by accident and only wanted to leave.  
  
Nina hated that kind of people.  
  
Trying to remain casual, Nina replied, as casually as possible, "So, you're in charge, huh? Can I ask why?"  
  
"The Nedenah, Miss Spencer," Disch replied simply.  
  
"What has that got to do with anything?" Nina asked.  
  
"They were thought to be peaceful, and now look at that recent occurrence- a man has lost his livelihood because of them," Disch explained, scratching the back of his neck in a casual way. "Some people think it's only a temporary thing, or only limited to a few Nedenah. Still, those in the Cortez Project believe otherwise- that finally, proof of the benefits of the Cortez Factor has been obtained. As a result, our head has taken command of UNIT. The Project has been dispatched to all UNIT facilities, replacing the main command personnel for the duration of this emergency. Harper's holding a party in a few days to explain the crisis to those lower personnel, from the original command," Disch said, suddenly opening a desk drawer and passing a piece of paper to Nina. "There's your invitation, by the way. Feel free to bring a few friends, but you'll have to leave them in the main hall while we fill you and your friends in on the new command."  
  
"My invitation?" Nina asked, looking at it. It had gold writing on it with a silver surrounding, which Nina supposed was to try and make her think they meant well, given that there were a few fancy gold designs on it. However, Nina didn't buy that for a second.  
  
"What makes you think I'm interested in becoming a full-time member of your little group?" Nina asked.  
  
"Why wouldn't you be?" Disch asked, sitting up and looking at her. "You're dedicated to protecting Earth. You've proved on several occasions that you're very resourceful. Besides, you've read the file- so far, you're the only non- Project member to have seen that."  
  
"Really?" Nina said. At the same time, she was flashing through her options in her mind. If she claimed that she would only get involved with the Cortez Project when it stopped being so damn paranoid about everything and actually found out what the aliens they were trying to kill were here to do, she'd have the life expectancy of a Cyberman in Fort Knox. On the other hand, if she accepted, she'd get an inside look at the Project, and manage to report it eventually. "Well, in that case," she said, having managed to reach her decision, "I'd be delighted to accept this invitation."  
  
"Excellent," Disch smiled. Nina wondered what he meant by that 'excellent.' "Well, the date's on the invitation. I'll see you tomorrow at work."  
  
"All right," Nina smiled. Turning away from him, she left the room, shutting the door. She maintained a cool, calm composure right up until she reached her lab. Then, after shutting the door, she finally let rip.  
  
"Those xenophobic JERKS!" she yelled, throwing the invitation onto the floor. "What gives them the bloody RIGHT to just TAKE OVER?! We're doing FINE!!"  
  
Nina almost tore the invitation in two in her anger, but even in her current temper, she knew that doing that would instantly ruin her attempt to infiltrate the Project.  
  
"OK then, Nina," she said to herself, putting the invitation down onto her desk. "Breathe. Be calm, be calm, be calm."  
  
She sat down in her chair, and began to think. What were her options now, with the current situation?  
  
Of course, they were obvious. Nina would have to try and find someone who would believe her story, and would be as opposed to the Project as she was. Now, who fit those requirements?  
  
UNIT command was out of the question, obviously. If the Cortez Project had taken over back at Geneva, then most likely they'd replaced several key figures in the command structure with their own personnel. Her chances of getting any help from other soldiers were slim as well- some of them may have remained in UNIT because they wanted to attempt the strategy she was trying, but how would she know which ones those were?  
  
No, as far as Nina could see, there was only one person who could help her now. Reaching for her mobile phone, she dialled a number known to all UNIT- UK personnel.  
  
"Hello?" a female voice said, on the other end of the phone.  
  
"Who's that?" Nina asked, just to make sure.  
  
"Doris Lethbridge- Stewart. This is?" the voice said. Nina grinned.  
  
"Nina Spencer, UNIT Scientific Advisor. I need to talk to your husband, Mrs Lethbridge- Stewart," she said.  
  
"I'm afraid Alistair isn't really available now, Mrs Spencer-"Doris began.  
  
"Just Miss, Mrs Lethbridge- Stewart," Nina said. "I wouldn't call him if I had any other choice, I know he values his privacy, but this is important. Something is rotten at the very heart of UNIT!"  
  
"Ah," Doris said. "Well, I'll see if I can get him. Please hold, Miss Spencer." "Of course," Nina said. As she waited, she heard a few brief strains of the conversation over the phone line; "...call later...heart of UNIT...someone else...is important..."  
  
Just then, someone else finally picked up the phone. "Lethbridge- Stewart speaking, Miss Spencer. Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't we met before?"  
  
"Yes, Brigadier, that's right," Nina said, relieved he'd taken the call. "We met briefly during that affair with the Fourth Reich aftermath conference, when you called the Doctor. Anyway, the important thing is, I need your help."  
  
*****  
  
"I gathered that from what my wife told me," the Brigadier said from the other end of the phone. He'd officially retired from UNIT in 1976, on the hypnotic suggestion of the Seventh Doctor, although he didn't know it, but still got involved in UNIT at times, and had rejoined UNIT in an advisory capacity six years ago.  
  
"Yes, well, shall I start from the beginning?" Nina asked from the other end of the phone.  
  
"Oh, of course, absolutely," the Brigadier smiled.  
  
Nina explained the situation to him as fast as she could. After it was over, the Brigadier just stared at the receiver with a dazed look on his face.  
  
"Say that again?" he asked.  
  
"The Cortez Project has taken-" Nina began.  
  
"All right, all right, no need for that," the Brigadier said. "I heard you the first time, I just couldn't quite believe it."  
  
"Well, that I can understand," Nina said. "I can't believe it myself, and I've seen the situation down here. So, will you help?"  
  
"Of course," the Brigadier said. "I've just got some loose ends to tie up here, and then I'll be right with you. McGregor's Tavern at four all right with you?"  
  
"Fine. I'll be there," Nina said, sounding relieved at the confirmation.  
  
Terminating the call, he went back to the kitchen, where Doris was waiting.  
  
"Well, what was that about?" she asked, looking up at him.  
  
"Emergency, dear. I have to help Miss Spencer handle it. It could be dangerous, so I need you to go off for a bit," the Brigadier explained.  
  
"Leave? I need to leave for you to handle this? Why? You know I can look after myself," Doris said, looking at her husband.  
  
"I know that, dear, but I have to sure you're safe," the Brigadier explained. "If you don't leave, I'll just worry that you'll be captured to be used as a hostage to ensure my cooperation, or things like that. I can't risk that."  
  
"All right," Doris said. She knew when to argue with her husband, and when not to. This was one of the latter. "I'll head over to Lucy's house in France. Nobody will expect me to go there, I haven't seen her for a while."  
  
"Perfect. I'll see you once this is over," the Brigadier said. He briefly kissed Doris, and then she headed up to her room.  
  
Heading off to the study and locking the door, the Brigadier opened a drawer in the desk and took out his UNIT outfit and his gun.  
  
"Time to play the hero again," he said grimly. 


	3. Nightmares

DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise- the Doctor, the Brigadier, the TARDIS- belongs to the BBC. Anything you don't recognise- Time Scales, the Stranger- belongs to me. Nina, Chris, Matteo and Natalie belong to themselves, and I use their names here with their permission. Enjoy.  
  
FEEDBACK: Feel free to give it.  
  
challengerspet: Inferno's one of my personal top stories as well. Just wait; I go into a great deal more detail on it's past in some future chapters.  
  
Chapter Two  
Nightmares  
  
Far outside Time, in the higher dimension called the Time Vortex, the TARDIS revolved slowly as it spun through that dimension, waiting for its next destination to be entered by its pilot.  
  
The pilot was the Doctor.  
  
However, it was not the Doctor in velvet and frills that had sent the Stranger to the edge of the Time Spiral years ago. Instead, it was a new Doctor, the Seventh Doctor, whereas the one in the frills had been the Third Doctor. This new Doctor had no trace of an Edwardian- like attire- indeed, his current outfit was a brown jacket that reached, cream trousers, a white shirt, and a red waistcoat, as well as carrying a bright red question- mark handled umbrella and wearing a straw hat. But then that's regeneration. Each body always undergoes a personality change from the last one, and although some factors remain, such as the sharp wit, inquisitive mind and heroic drive remain, each body has a different method of saving the day, and each never wears the same outfit as the last one. This one was a good example- his previous body had always worn a large, multicoloured coat that clashed horribly with black and banana- yellow striped trousers, along with a ridiculous waistcoat and green shoes with orange spats. Generally, this incarnation took it easy in clothing by comparison, since at least he looked rather inconspicuous in some time zones.  
  
Although the Vortex itself was highly turbulent, inside the TARDIS things were more relaxed. Recently, the Doctor had reconfigured the TARDIS's secondary console room for his more permanent use, and it was now much more impressive. Originally it hadn't been much to look it- the control console was a lot smaller then the one in the other control room, and instead of a Time Rotor in the centre of the console it had what looked a little like a shaving mirror, and there was practically nothing else in the room beside the console- just a door, steps, and a few railings. It had been nice, but not particularly interesting.  
  
Now, however, everything was very different. The console was now the size of its counterpart in the main control room, but still made of wood and with a little less controls than the other. Metal girders surrounded the console, stretching up to the roof and then curving down to connect with the Time Rotor, a lot thinner then its counterpart, but taller. Inside it, several metal poles, joined by a metal circle, were positioned in the top and the bottom of the rotor, which moved towards and away from each other while the TARDIS was in flight. Carpets lay around the console, and an armchair was nearby, beside a table with several books in a pile on a table beside it, a teacup at the top of them all. There were several candles around the console as well, and above every door stretching away from the console room was a shape that resembled an infinity symbol in a circle- the Seal of Rassilon, greatest of the Doctor's people.  
  
Recently, the Doctor had just left the planet Artais, after a battle with its immortal warlord, Grayvorn, calling himself Vaughan Sutton. In the fight, the Doctor had managed to stop Sutton's plan to control all of the planet's dead, but he hadn't been able to stop Sutton launching nuclear warheads. Several of the planet's population had been killed, and the planet itself wouldn't be left in good shape either. The Doctor knew that he had been unable to do anything, but couldn't stop himself from wishing there had been something he could have done...  
  
Deciding he might as well stay about in the console room for a bit, not feeling up to going anywhere yet, the Doctor had set the TARDIS to dematerialise and just remain parked in temporal orbit for a while.  
  
After checking the clothes in the mirror, the Doctor sat down in the armchair and picked up his teacup. However, as he drank it he had a very unpleasant surprise- the coffee was cold.  
  
"Only to be expected, I suppose," he said to himself. After all, he had spent a lot of time running around trying to stop Sutton. Getting up, he headed off to a nearby tea machine and poured himself a new cup. Turning around to go back to his chair, he noticed his old cat, Wolsey, sitting on the arm of his old chair. Wolsey was about the only companion the Doctor had left, dating back to the end of a rather complex chain of events that had occurred on Earth in 1914, and right now the Doctor was glad of his company.  
  
"Ah, hello there, Wolsey," the Doctor smiled, stroking the cat on the back with his fingers. "How have you been, then?"  
  
Wolsey meowed in reply, and jumped off the chair. Putting his cup down, the Doctor gave Wolsey a little scratch behind the ears, before walking off to his room in the TARDIS.  
  
Sitting down back in his chair, he began to sip his tea again. This time it was a lot better, just the right temperature. Smiling, the Doctor put the cup on top of the pile of books, and closed his eyes a little. Maybe a quick doze would do him some good...  
  
*****  
  
Opening his eyes, the Doctor looked around him. The light was incredibly bright. Where was he...?  
  
Then, he saw something recognisable. An old ruin that looked a little like the remains of a cathedral. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor sensed the positive ion bombardment in the atmosphere. He was on the Eye of Orion, widely renowned as one of the most peaceful planets in the Universe. Looking around, he saw no sign of the turmoil that had resulted from his last visit two lifetimes ago, which had left a Raston Warrior Robot running around the planet amid several dead Sontarans. Possibly somebody had dealt with them, or this was the Eye before those events occurred.  
  
"Exactly, my boy!" a voice called out from behind him. "Those events are still to occur on this delightful little place!"  
  
Turning around, the Doctor searched for the source of that voice.  
  
"We're down the hill!" another voice cried out, sounding like it was laughing a little. Looking down the hill, the Doctor saw five men relaxing on the bottom near a tree. He recognised them all at once. One man was tall and old, dressed in a Victorian outfit, and carried a walking stick. Another was younger and shorter, with a pudding- bowl haircut and a tramp- like outfit consisting of a black jacket at least two sizes too big, a rumpled blue shirt and checked brown trousers, currently blowing a recorder. The third was taller then the old man, and was wearing a blue velvet jacket, black trousers and a blue frilly shirt. The fourth wore a burgundy outfit, consisting of a jacket reaching down to his knees, a long scarf in varying shades of red, and a floppy hat. The fifth and last was wearing a cricket outfit, a red- and- white striped trousers, and a long beige frock coat with a stick of celery pinned to the lapel.  
  
All of them were the Doctor- or, to be more accurate, they were the Doctor's first five incarnations.  
  
"This is a dream," the Doctor said to himself.  
  
"Well, why not?" the Second Doctor asked. "Doesn't do you any harm to dream about us, eh? It doesn't break the Laws of Time!"  
  
"Care for a quick drink?" the Fourth Doctor asked, waving a bottle of ginger beer at the Doctor. "Can't do you any harm, you know!"  
  
"Well, just one, I suppose," the Doctor said, walking down towards his past selves.  
  
"Good on you, my- URK!" the First Doctor cried. A large man dressed in a military outfit sticking a sword right through him caused the 'URK'. The First Doctor gasped, and then collapsed to the floor.  
  
"DOCTOR!" the other four cried, looking down at their first self. They looked up at the man that had just killed their past.  
  
"There was no need for that!" the Second Doctor cried, charging towards the man. He struck him in the stomach with his head, but all that resulted in was a loud 'oomph' from the man and a disoriented Second Doctor.  
  
"Not smart," the man said, pulling out a large gun and shooting the Second Doctor once in the head. The Second was dead before he hit the ground.  
  
"Who are you?" the Third Doctor cried, as the Fourth and Fifth examined their younger self's body. "Why do this?"  
  
"Why, I'm you," the man replied.  
  
"What?!" cried the four Doctors.  
  
"You heard," the man said, pulling a large machine gun out. "I'm your eighth incarnation. This is my Mind now. You lot are no longer a part of it!"  
  
With that, he opened fire.  
  
It was horrible. The Seventh Doctor was unscathed, being behind the Eighth and not noticed yet, and the Fourth and Fifth managed to retreat to safety in time, but the Third was shot down before he could do anything.  
  
The Seventh Doctor, from his vantage point on the hillside, made his decision. This was not a fight his past selves could win on their own. Their only chance was if the Eighth Doctor could be defeated. This was simply a battle in a dream, so therefore, if the Eighth was defeated, the First, Second and Third Doctors would be restored to him.  
  
The Seventh made his decision on his strategy. His best bet was a surprise leap onto the Eighth's back, and then hit him over the head with something- either his umbrella or one of the Eighth's guns. However, just as the Doctor was charging forward, someone grabbed his collar.  
  
"Going somewhere?" a voice asked him. Turning around, the Doctor saw a very unwelcome sight- his sixth incarnation, clad in the long black robe with the ornate collar and the black skullcap that were the traditional garb of the Doctor's dark side, the Vaelyard.  
  
"What are you doing here?" the Seventh Doctor asked the Sixth, trying not to look too nervous.  
  
"Stopping you, of course," the Sixth grinned. But no, the Doctor thought to himself. This wasn't his sixth incarnation- not anymore. This was a degenerate monster, an amalgamation of his previous self and the darkest parts of the persona. However, despite all that, the Seventh Doctor couldn't help but think of this as anything other then his past self.  
  
"Why?" he asked his past self, waving his hand at the scene in front of them. The Eighth Doctor was currently battering in the head of the Fourth Doctor with the butt end of his gun, and was holding the Fifth Doctor at gunpoint with a pistol. "What can you gain from butchering our past?"  
  
"It hurts you, Doctor," the Sixth said simply, raising his fist to the Seventh's face. "That's all I've wanted lately- you to suffer."  
  
Then the Sixth Doctor punched the Seventh in the face.  
  
The Seventh Doctor reeled back, bringing his hands automatically to his nose. They came away dripping blood. "Why...?" he asked dazedly, before the Sixth punched him again.  
  
"You cut my life short," the Sixth Doctor said, as the Seventh tried to regain his footing. "You erased my future. Now I'll erase yours."  
  
"This...this won't do anything for you..." the Seventh Doctor gasped, looking up at his past self. "Nothing changes...for you..."  
  
"You'll be dead," the Sixth Doctor said, kicking him in the stomach. "That's enough of a difference for me."  
  
"Good job, Doctor," another voice said. Looking round, the Doctor saw the speaker. It was the Eighth Doctor.  
  
"The others..." he gasped, weakly; the Sixth's blows had done a lot of damage. "Dead," the Eighth said simply. "As you will be."  
  
"Will you do the honours, Doctor?" the Sixth Doctor asked the Eighth.  
  
"With pleasure, Doctor," the Eighth said. He raised his gun, and pointed it at the Seventh Doctor. Looking into the face of his future self, the Seventh suddenly saw a different face than the Eighth Doctor's.  
  
It was the Valeyard.  
  
He began to pull the trigger...  
  
*****  
  
The Doctor woke up, gasping a little.  
  
"Oh...a dream...just a dream..." he said to himself. But then, on the other hand, he knew that dream, didn't he?  
  
It had been haunting him for some time now, ever since that affair with Davros and the Hand of Omega in 1963, and had gotten worse after the confrontation with Dr. Who and his meeting Ace and Mel again. He knew what it was all about- his worries that, because of the actions he had committed in his present incarnation, his next regeneration would allow the Valeyard to gain dominance, and he would become all he had ever fought. He had committed so many atrocities in this life, and had so much blood on his hands that, evil or no, he wasn't sure he could ever truly be the Doctor he once was. And the Sixth Doctor in the dream? Simply his worries as to what his memories of his previous self would do to him if given the chance. Everything seemed to be getting on top of him lately. What had happened to him in the week prior to this recent battle? Well, there'd been that meeting with his future self, that annoying affair involving his immediately preceding two selves, the damage to the Web of Time caused by the Sirens of Time, and what else... no, that was it.  
  
Maybe a holiday would take my mind of that dream... How long has it been since I had a break, anyway? the Doctor asked himself. Then it occurred to him- the last break he'd had was when he went to Metebelis Three for a break and almost got eaten!  
  
"The Brigadier would say that's overdoing it even for a Time Lord," the Doctor said to himself as he sipped his tea. "Got to try for somewhere more relaxing, somewhere where I don't even have the smallest chance of getting attacked, captured, or eaten by anyone or anything."  
  
The question was, where to go? The Doctor knew that just sitting back and relaxing at home could have its positive merits for some people, but he presently felt like doing something when he got to wherever he was going. But what to do...?  
  
Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor's hand closed around his sonic screwdriver, which felt a little different. Pulling it out of his pocket, he could see why- in the distortion caused by the Relic releasing all its souls at once, the screwdriver had been badly damaged. Several parts were leaking out of the cracked casing, and the Doctor was fairly sure that at least the pitchometer had fallen apart, and possibly more.  
  
"Well, that solves that problem, eh?" the Doctor smiled. Getting out of the chair, he headed to the console and, after a little contemplation, set the coordinates for Earth, during the 24th century. He could always go to Gallifrey, but he felt like a little challenge, and repairing the screwdriver with human technology would be a good one. "This should be just perfect, eh, old thing?" he asked the TARDIS as he headed back to his chair. "Let me know when we arrive, will you?" he asked, as he reached over and picked up the first book on the pile beside him. He smiled as he saw what book it was; his first edition signed copy of The Time Machine, by H. G. Wells. Grinning a little, the Doctor took a little look at the signature in the cover.  
  
To the Doctor, with affection and respect. H.G.  
  
"This shouldn't be too hard," the Doctor smiled to the TARDIS as he began to read the first line of the book; The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us. "In, pick up the parts I need, and out. What could be easier?" 


	4. Time Scales

DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise- the Doctor, the Brigadier, the TARDIS- belongs to the BBC. Anything you don't recognise- Time Scales, the Stranger- belongs to me. Nina, Chris, Matteo and Natalie belong to themselves, and I use their names here with their permission. Enjoy.  
  
FEEDBACK: Feel free to give it.  
  
Chapter Three  
Time Scales  
  
"Well, that went rather well, I think," the Doctor said, as he dumped his shopping bag onto a nearby chair in the TARDIS. "Everything picked up in a matter of minutes, and nobody tried to shoot me."  
  
Indeed, everything appeared to be going well so far. The Doctor had arrived on twenty-fourth century Earth, and picked up the parts he needed at an electronics shop near his landing location. The man in the shop had been helpful enough giving the Doctor all the parts he'd asked for, and even giving him some advice on how to piece together some other parts with what was in the shop.  
  
"You know, I always liked those shopkeepers," the Doctor said to the TARDIS as he began unpacking the bag onto the nearby table. "The Earth Government itself may have a couple of problems, but his kind of people will always help out the little guy..." The Doctor stopped talking as he looked over the stuff he'd taken out of the bag. Most of it was there- the fold inhibitor, the main emitter, and so on- but the Doctor had forgotten one thing- the sonic emitter central power source.  
  
"Well, soon settle that, eh, old thing?" the Doctor said, smiling at the console. Getting out of his chair and heading over to the console, he pushed the fast return switch once. He could just set the coordinates, but the switch made everything so much easier and timesaving, since his third self had fixed it.  
  
"Here we go again," the Doctor smiled, looking around the TARDIS. The TARDIS console blinked a few lights at him. Suddenly, the TARDIS jolted to the side, knocking the Doctor against the console!  
  
"What in the name of Rassilon...?" the Doctor said, checking the instruments on the console. To his surprise, nothing appeared to be wrong.  
  
Deciding it probably wasn't worth bothering about, the Doctor picked up his umbrella just before the familiar groaning, wheezing noise sounded throughout the room. The Doctor opened the door, stepped out of the TARDIS...  
  
And stared in horror at the site in front of him.  
  
It was completely different from the sight he'd seen only recently. That sight had been a relatively peaceful one, with several buildings stretched all around and several shops lying about. This new scene, however, was completely different. It reminded him strongly of the scene on Excelis before his visit, except for the fact that there were large quantities of rubble lying about the place that hadn't been on Excelis. However, apart from that, the scene was very Excelis- like, the buildings being made completely of concrete and smog filling the air. Generally, the entire city gave the general impression of being a prison, or at the very least a kind of place that you'd only ever go to if you had nowhere else to go. Even the ground was terrible, being covered in mud and debris.  
  
"What in the universe...?" the Doctor asked, looking around himself. Looking up, the Doctor saw that the smoke was even blocking off the sky from view, but thought he glimpsed a ship of some kind up there. However, he couldn't make out any more details about it, so he decided he'd ignore it for the moment. Evidently, the bump had been the TARDIS shifting into a history of Earth that had been altered somehow. The question was, what had happened?  
  
Thinking that a look around couldn't hurt, the Doctor walked out of the alleyway in which the TARDIS had materialised and began to walk along the streets. The people he saw around him were even worse than the city was, their clothes being so thin and ragged in some cases that it appeared a miracle to the Doctor that they were able to walk without freezing.  
  
"What happened here...?" he asked himself, horrified. Looking ahead of him, he noticed another horrifying sight- two men were punching a young woman all over, even kicking her at times!  
  
"Help..." she groaned, reaching her hand out to a passer- by. However, he just looked at her, and then walked by.  
  
"Shut up, bitch!" the older man cried, hitting her in the face. He looked like he'd been a wrestler in a previous life and a soldier in another, and had resulted in a body that looked like both of those combined. "You don't talk to me like that! You don't talk to me like that EVER again! You're DEAD!"  
  
At that moment, the man was distracted by the Doctor's umbrella hitting him over the head.  
  
"Leave her alone!" the Doctor said, looking at the two men with an angry look in his eyes.  
  
"What's the big idea, jackass? She said I was an idiot!" the other man cried. He just looked like a large boxer who'd taken a lot of hits, and was so mad about it he'd hit anybody who got him annoyed.  
  
"That doesn't give you the right to hit her senseless!" the Doctor said, glaring at the men. "I've seen things on other worlds that would make you shake in fear, but what you're doing is one of the most barbaric things I've ever seen. You'll be stopped, now."  
  
"Hah!" laughed the first man, looking at the Doctor. "You stop us? What you going to do, make us laugh to death?"  
  
"No," the Doctor said, picking up his umbrella and facing his opponents with a harsh glare in his eyes. "With this."  
  
With that, before anyone could stop him, the Doctor hooked his umbrella around the first man's neck and yanked him towards him. No sooner had the man reached the Doctor then the Doctor stuck him arm round the man's back and pinched the nerve endings in his neck. The man collapsed to the ground at once.  
  
"What the hell...?" the man asked, looking down at his friend.  
  
"Don't worry, he's just knocked out," the Doctor said, smiling a little. He faced the man, and his face took on a harder expression. "I don't kill, like you two seem to. Now, do I have to do the same to you, or will you leave this young woman alone?"  
  
The man for a moment looked like he'd fight the Doctor himself, and hang any consequences. But, looking down at his friend, knocked out in a matter of seconds, he appeared to reach the smart decision. Glaring at the Doctor, he picked up his friend's body and ran away.  
  
"And don't come back!" the Doctor yelled after them. "Some people..." he said to himself, as he looked over at the girl. "Are you all right?"  
  
The girl looked up at him. The Doctor noted that, beneath the dirt and grim that covered her hair and face, streaked with the lines her tears had caused, she was actually rather attractive, if having taken a few cuts and bruises here and there.  
  
"W...why...?" she croaked weakly, looking up at him. She tried to get up, but collapsed to the ground- evidently her leg was injured. Even with his brief glance at it, the Doctor was certain that there were a few broken bones involved there, and possible damage to a few veins as well.  
  
"Easy there," the Doctor said, crouching down beside her. The mud stained his umbrella, but that could be cleaned. "That leg doesn't look too good. I'm sure I have a medical kit here somewhere..." he said to himself, fumbling through his pockets. Eventually, he pulled out a white box with a red cross on it.  
  
"Not much, I'm afraid, Miss..." the Doctor said, faltering a little as he looked at her. I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."  
  
"Jill..." she gaped, looking at him with a puzzled expression. The Doctor wondered at that- it was always natural for someone to help someone else in trouble, but she seemed to act like it wasn't- but decided he'd ask about that later.  
  
"Ah, good," he smiled, looking at her with a little grin on his face. "Now, understand that I haven't got a great deal of medical resources on hand at present, but with what I've got, I can attend to some of your injuries- like that, for instance," he said, indicating a large cut on her forehead. "You really should have gotten that seeing to a long time ago. Why not go to a doctor?"  
  
"Doctor...?" Jill asked. Looking at her, the Doctor saw she looked puzzled again, but this time it was also with a touch of confusion. It was as though 'doctor' was a completely alien word to her.  
  
"Wait a minute..." the Doctor said, putting the medical kit back in his pocket as he looked at Jill. "Are you telling me you don't know what a doctor is?"  
  
"No," Jill said, looking at him. "You're very odd, you know that?"  
  
"Odd? Me?" the Doctor said. "I'll confess that I was thought of as being a bit eccentric in earlier lives, but I always thought of this me as being relatively normal..." he said, suddenly looking at Jill and noting that she was now looking a bit worried. "I'm not convincing you of that, am I?"  
  
Jill shook her head. Right now she was giving every impression that she wanted to get away from the Doctor as soon as possible. "You're odd. You say things that don't exist, you help me-"  
  
"What?!" the Doctor cried, looking extremely shocked now. "Helping people isn't normal?"  
  
"No," Jill said, looking at him. "Didn't you know that? The Dictator has taught us that helping others is a sign of weakness. We shouldn't help those who-"  
  
"As Ace would have said, back up a bit there," the Doctor said, as he got back onto his feet. "'Dictator'? What Dictator?"  
  
"The Dictator, of course," Jill said, staring at him. "Where have you been for all your life?"  
  
"Wandering, mainly," the Doctor said to himself, before he assumed a determined expression on his face. "Jill, tell me about this 'Dictator'."  
  
"Why?" Jill asked, puzzled.  
  
"It's complicated," the Doctor said, crouching down again to talk to her better. "I am a traveller in time and space, you see."  
  
"Right..." Jill said, her eyes flicking past to the Doctor the exit of the alley.  
  
"If you're thinking of running away, I wouldn't if I were you," the Doctor said. "Your leg isn't in the slightest condition to even hobble slightly, never mind run. Besides, I'm not mad, I can assure you. I won't hurt you."  
  
"OK..." Jill said, looking at him. She still didn't look happy, but seemed to be prepared to accept the Doctor, mainly because he hadn't tried to attack her yet.  
  
"Good," the Doctor smiled. "Now, Jill, first things first- that 'Dictator' you mentioned, I've never heard of him at all. Could you tell me about him?"  
  
"He's the ruler of all Earth," Jill said, looking up at the Doctor. The cut on her head was bleeding, so the Doctor passed her a tissue, but she rejected it. "He became ruler in the early twenty-first century, to protect us from an alien assault. He bred us to be as strong as we could be, and, ever since then, he has ruled us with a grip of iron..." here she stopped, gasping a little. The Doctor hoped none of her ribs had been damaged in the beating she'd just taken; he wasn't sure he could help her if that was the case.  
  
"That's putting it mildly..." the Doctor said to himself, as he looked around him at the ruined streets. "Sorry, go on," he said to Jill.  
  
"Well, that's about it," Jill said, gasping weakly as she tried to stand up. The Doctor handed her his umbrella, and she gratefully hauled herself up onto her feet while leaning on it. She looked up at the Doctor and smiled at him. "You're nice, you know that?"  
  
"Well, I'm not from here, am I?" the Doctor grinned back at her. He offered her his arm. "Anyway, why are you suddenly so trusting?"  
  
"We may believe that the strong crush the weak, but we're still nice to some people," Jill replied, grinning a little. "It's just we're forbidden to help people who're losing a fight."  
  
"Ah, excellent!" the Doctor said. "Well, after-" he began, when suddenly bright lights blared up into their faces!  
  
"FREEZE!" a loud voice cried. "Nobody move!"  
  
Holding his hand up in front of the light, the Doctor saw what was going on- somehow, in the brief period since he stepped into this alley, several military vehicles had managed to surround the alley entrance. He could identify several troop carriers, a few tanks, and he glimpsed what might be a prison van.  
  
"What the...?" Jill said, looking around her, blinking in the light. "What's up?" "You're under arrest, miss!" one man said, pointing his gun at her. "You AND your friend."  
  
"Ah, good," the Doctor smiled, looking around himself at the soldiers.  
  
"Good?!" Jill whispered to him as the soldiers began to close in around her. "Are you insane?"  
  
"I thought we'd already gone through this?" asked the Doctor, as the two of them were herded towards the prison van. "Besides, I'm doing this for the best of reasons."  
  
"What would they be?" Jill asked, as they were forced into the van, Jill trying to hobble as fast as she could.  
  
As the doors to the van shut, the Doctor could be heard saying one thing; "I have to see the Dictator."  
  
*****  
  
After a long and boring drive, the van stopped, and the doors of the van were torn open.  
  
"On your feet, scumbags," a soldier said, pointing his gun at the Doctor and Jill. "You're at the Dictator's palace. You should be honoured that he will decide your fate."  
  
"Hardly," the Doctor thought to himself, as the soldier shoved him out of the van, Jill being pulled out by another. "So, that's the Dictator's base..." he commented, looking at the sight in front of him, with a certain reluctant impression in his eyes. This was mainly because the tower in front of him was incredibly tall, resembling a fortress with some battlements around it, but there was a large tower standing right in the centre of those battlements- in fact, in all appearances, it resembled the Dark Tower where the Doctor's first, second, third and fifth selves had met once, and which he had returned to earlier in his present life to deal with some new adversaries.  
  
Groaning, the Doctor bowed his head, as though in prayer. "This isn't good..." he muttered to himself, a fretful expression on his face. Only one of the few beings to visit Gallifrey could know about that structure, and if any alien had managed to set up any sort of structure that looked like that, he almost certainly had a huge superiority complex.  
  
"Keep moving!" the soldier cried, ramming his gun into the Doctor's back.  
  
"You know, you could just ask me nicely," the Doctor said, looking back at the guard. "Would it kill you to be polite to a prisoner for once?"  
  
"You don't deserve good manners!" the soldier shouted, placing his gun into the Doctor's back again. "Now, get moving."  
  
"Fine," the Doctor muttered to himself as he began to walk forward. Still, my friend, you'll soon have your own little problems to deal with, if I can help it...he thought to himself.  
  
As the Doctor and Jill were forced through the corridors, the Doctor couldn't help but notice the fine collection of artwork arrayed around him. The walls weren't much- simply black, without a spot of colour on them- but the paintings took away the attention to the walls. Evidently, the Dictator, whoever, or whatever he was, had a great deal of money available to him and a passion for fine artwork that was virtually limitless- Claude Oscar Monet's Lilies was standing in pride of place on one wall, along with the Mona Lisa right beside it, and the Venus de Milo was standing in a corner. Vincent Van Gough's Irises was near that, as was Paul Cézanne's Apples and Oranges. Towards the end of the corridor, and around a large door, the Doctor noticed another Monet, Poplars, and Picasso's Guernica.  
  
"He's certainly done well for himself," the Doctor commented to Jill, as the soldiers steered them towards the large door between Poplars and Guernica. "I'm looking forward to finding out a bit more about this character."  
  
"Are you insane?" Jill asked, staring at the Doctor.  
  
"Please, don't start that again..." the Doctor groaned, as the door was opened, to reveal a large dark loom. There were little lights in it, but at the far end of the room, the Doctor could make out a large throne on top of several steps, with someone sitting on it.  
  
As he and Jill were shoved in that direction by two of the soldiers, the others leaving them alone, more details about the man became apparent. He was very tall and looked rather like everyone else the Doctor had seen in that timeline so far- he had a general air of being capable of taking several knocks before he would finally be knocked down, and reminded the Doctor vaguely of a wrestler. He was dressed in a black suit and black cloak with a red inner lining, and had black hair.  
  
"Lord Dictator, this is the man," the soldier said, indicating the Doctor.  
  
"Ah, I see," the Dictator said, leaning over to look at the Doctor. "You're a strange fellow, my friend."  
  
"Why? Because I help people out?" the Doctor replied. "By my point of view, you're the strange person here. Why do you do this?"  
  
"The human race was weak," the Dictator smiled, looking down at the Doctor with a satisfied look on his face. "Ineffective, powerless. I took them down a new path. The path of power, and now, their Empire shall be eternal."  
  
"Empire?" the Doctor said, with an angry look in his eyes. "What Empire? Earth's Empire was doing far better than this at this point in original history, Dictator! By this point humanity had space stations all over the sky! They could control the weather! They had fought back the Daleks and the Cybermen themselves! How can your future compare to that?!"  
  
"It shall improve," the Dictator said simply. "It is only a matter of time."  
  
"Really?" the Doctor said. Suddenly, and with no apparently effort, he grabbed the gun that was pressing into his back, whirled it round so the guard carrying it was thrown into the guard behind Jill, knocking them both out. Then, as Jill stared at the Doctor, he walked over to the Dictator's chair, and glared at him.  
  
"Well," he said, placing his hands on his hips, "now that your guards are out the way, and may I say you keep the worst guards I've ever encountered in all my lives, would you care to tell me how you've lived this long, or how you've even managed to alter history?"  
  
At this comment, the Dictator appeared to snap out of a trance and he glanced down at the Doctor.  
  
"You want to know how I altered history?" he said, looking down at the Doctor. "I'll show you... Doctor."  
  
Before the Doctor could fully take in the fact that the Dictator actually knew him, the Dictator had reached down underneath one of the arms of his seat and turned a small black dial. Suddenly, the lights in the room grew a lot brighter, and the Doctor recognised where he was. He was in a massive black-walled chamber that stretched upwards, apparently in an oval shape. White roundels were in the walls all around him, with simple blackness where doors were. In the centre of the room, behind the Dictator's seat, was a large ornate stone sculpture of a closed eye, about the size of a man while lying down. That, more than anything, confirmed where the Doctor was- a TARDIS. The eye was the Eye of Harmony, the power source of the Time Lord technology. Looking up, he saw something else to worry him- right above him was a large, three-dimensional image of the Seal of Rassilon, but modified, this one having a large sign in the centre that looked like a swastika.  
  
"The Stranger's symbol..." the Doctor gasped, looking up at the Dictator. "You're the Stranger?"  
  
"Correct," the Dictator smiled. "Well, actually, it would be more accurate to say that I was the Stranger. That was in my last life, and even then it was only a brief identity assumed for those robberies."  
  
"'Last life'?" Jill asked. "What's he on about?"  
  
"He's a Time Lord like me, Jill," the Doctor said, sighing a little. "As such, he has the ability to regenerate and grow himself a new body at the moment of death. I fought him several lives ago." At this, he turned around and faced the Dictator again. "Actually, I though I'd gotten rid of you back then."  
  
"You almost did," the Dictator smiled. "However, I managed to get away from the spiral's edge thanks to a little gadget I'd thought up in my spare time. I regenerated shortly after I took over, and I've kept this body ever since; the old one was getting a little annoying. Still, you haven't seen the best part of my operation, Doctor."  
  
"What's that?" the Doctor asked.  
  
"It's in that room over there," the Dictator said, indicating one of the many doors. As the Doctor and Jill looked over at it, the Dictator operated another switch on his chair, and the door opened. Behind it was a large machine, mostly black, apart from three or four various multicoloured buttons, a long glowing rob, and a couple of blinking red lights. There were two pan-like devices sticking out of the sides, giving the entire device the vague impression of being an extremely high-tech pair of kitchen scales.  
  
Jill stared at it with a slightly bemused look on her face. "What's that?" she asked the Doctor.  
  
The Doctor was staring at the device with an expression of pure horror on his face. "Time Scales..." he breathed, spinning around and looking at the Dictator. "You'd planned on me showing up, hadn't you?"  
  
"Naturally," the Dictator smiled, sitting back in his chair and placing his fingers together. "You wander through Time a great deal, and your TARDIS has a habit of drawing you to where you're most needed, eventually. I thought that this would add a certain touch of irony, if you yourself were prevented from changing things back."  
  
"Wait a minute," Jill said, holding up her hand. "Time Scales? What the heck are Time Scales?"  
  
"The principle's quite simple, my dear," the Dictator said, leaning over and looking at Jill. "Think of two timelines- in this case, the timeline from before I meddled with your planet's history and became your ruler, and this one- as the weights in a scale. The lower timeline, here the original one, is the proper timeline, being firmer stuck in the fabric of reality, and the higher one, right now this one, isn't, being too light to be firmly placed in reality. However, if someone who is at the very least aware of how history should have turned out originally, like your friend here-" here he pointed at the Doctor, "shows up in the higher, or new, timeline, whichever you prefer, a Time Scale being activated means that, if he doesn't depart this timeline after a certain length of time, it will become the fixed real timeline, and any interference in the past will have no effect on history."  
  
"How long have I got?" the Doctor asked.  
  
"There's a timer," the Dictator replied, indicating it on the Time Scales. The Doctor checked, a grim expression on his face.  
  
"Fifteen minutes..." he groaned, looking up.  
  
"Exactly," the Dictator smiled, looking at the Doctor. "Too little time for you to get to your TARDIS and get into the Time Vortex."  
  
"On foot, that would be true," the Doctor said, looking at the Dictator. "But not in your TARDIS."  
  
"Hah!" laughed the Dictator, smiling at him. "You think you can use this TARDIS? Not a chance! I've set the controls to an isomorphic configuration! You can't even work the food machine, never mind pilot it to your ship!"  
  
"Really?" the Doctor commented, reaching over and picking up a gun. "Well, we'll just see about that."  
  
"You're going to SHOOT me? Oh, please!" laughed the Dictator. "You and I both know that TARDISes exist in states of temporal grace! Weapons are absolutely useless in here!"  
  
The Doctor fired twice. Both bullets each hit one of the Dictator's hearts.  
  
"I tore yours out when I threw you away all those years ago," the Doctor said, as the Dictator collapsed onto the floor. Diving towards the body, the Doctor pulled the Dictator's sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, removed the sonic emitter central power source, and then turned back to Jill.  
  
"You...KILLED the Dictator?!" Jill asked, amazed, as she hobbled along on his umbrella.  
  
"No, not really," the Doctor said, as he grabbed Jill's arm and ran out the door. "As he mentioned, he's a Time Lord, and he has about nine or so lives left. Since I shot him, he will regenerate, but due to the fact that he's been hit in BOTH hearts, and after that length of time in one body, this TARDIS will have to dematerialise so it can help him through without having to worry about maintaining its real-universe link."  
  
"I see," Jill said, without really seeing at all. "And the practical upshot of all that happening is...?"  
  
"Since we've already dematerialised, and the Dictator's biodata has been thrown into chaos, his isomorphic configuration system will have no effect due to his biodata being highly unstable- the TARDIS can't do anything to him but try to help him through this regeneration, and that takes time," the Doctor explained. "If his TARDIS is the same as mine, I should be able to locate his control room in time to take control and steer it to my TARDIS before he recovers."  
  
"'If' seems to be the relative word..." Jill commented, looking at the corridor she and the Doctor were running down. It was stretching down almost as far as the eye could see, and there were several other corridors leading off around them.  
  
"Don't worry," the Doctor grinned. "It's this way, I think."  
  
With that, he grabbed Jill's arm and charged down the corridor that they'd recently been forced along by the guards.  
  
"How do you know where to go?" Jill asked, as they left the wooden corridor and began to run down a black one with white roundels in the walls. "And how can all this fit inside that one tower?"  
  
"I have an inbuilt instinct for TARDIS architecture, like all Time Lords, to answer your first question," the Doctor said, turning rapidly to the left. "And to answer your second question, it's not all in this tower. The tower is simply a real-universe interface, as I mentioned, for an entirely new dimension that is only accessible via that TARDIS's door. This isn't even in your reality."  
  
"I see," Jill said, mainly to shut the Doctor up.  
  
"Here we are!" the Doctor smiled, as he opened a door right in front of him. In front of him was a large black room, with chairs lying around here and there. The console in the centre was like his old one before his recent reconfiguration, a simple white mushroom-like structure with a glass cylinder in the centre. A television, a table with a cup of coffee on it, and a desk covered with test tubes and other scientific equipment could be seen in the corner.  
  
"Wow..." Jill said, looking around her at the control room. "This place is... incredible."  
  
"Yes, well, this isn't all that much," the Doctor said, as he ran over to the console and began to work the coordinates. "I used to have this style of console room, except that it was green, but I discarded it on the grounds that the colour scheme wasn't the new me."  
  
"Ah," Jill said simply. Looking around at the Doctor, she asked, "Has your idea worked?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, the isomorphic configuration being inoperative? That worked out just fine," the Doctor smiled, looking back at her. "In fact, we should be materialising right about...now."  
  
Just as he said that, a groaning, wheezing sound filled the room.  
  
"Ah, we're there," the Doctor grinned. Reaching over, he operated the door control. As the doors opened, he noticed the TARDIS, standing just a metre or so away form the exit of this TARDIS. "Coming?" he asked Jill.  
  
"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!" a loud voice suddenly boomed. Spinning round, the Doctor and Jill saw several soldiers standing behind a man who the Doctor instantly identified as the Dictator, mainly because of the clothes. However, now he looked a lot different, being taller and thinner, and with flaming red hair rather than the dark hair of his earlier self, and generally looked less of a fighter and more of an intellectual.  
  
"Is that...?" Jill asked, indicating the Dictator.  
  
"Yes, it is," the Doctor replied, before he turned back to the Dictator. "So, you made it through that regeneration?"  
  
"Yes, my TARDIS helped me out," the Dictator said, as he pulled out a large gun and pointed it at him. "Oh, and you're almost out of time. You'll soon be powerless to stop me."  
  
"Really?" the Doctor said. "As I recall, the timer said I had fifteen minutes until this timeline became genuine, and I've spent a lot of the time since then in the Time Vortex."  
  
"You really don't know what that does to Time Scales, huh?" the Dictator smiled. "If you exist out of Time with the Scales, you simply accelerate the process. Right now you have only, oh, two minutes," he smiled, checking a watch-like device on his wrist.  
  
"Two?!" the Doctor cried, horrified. "I have to get out!"  
  
"I don't think so," the Dictator smiled, as his soldiers all pointed their guns at the Doctor. "One step, and you'll be vaporised into each and every one of your various atoms. They'll still be here, so the Time Scales will still eventually shift the balance of power."  
  
"You won't win..." the Doctor growled, as he stared at the Dictator.  
  
"Get used to it, Doctor," the Dictator smiled. "I've won. At last, after all your wanderings, you've lost. How does it feel?"  
  
The Doctor bent his head, sadly. Suddenly, before he realised what was happening, Jill shoved him out the door, hooking his umbrella onto his pocket as she did so.  
  
"RUN!!" she yelled at him, just as the soldier's lasers struck her body. As the Doctor watched, she instantly vanished, vaporised into thin air.  
  
"JILL!!!" the Doctor yelled.  
  
"Well, that was nice," the Dictator smiled, looking up at his opponent. "I love it when people sacrifice themselves in a pointless, meaningless gesture. Now, it's your turn to die."  
  
As the Doctor stared at the guns, already aiming towards him, he suddenly was overcome with a sensation of deja vu...  
  
Katarina. A serving girl to the Trojan prophetess, Cassandra. She had barely begun travelling with him before she'd given her life to save him and his other companion, Steven.  
  
He'd justified her sacrifice.  
  
He'd to the same thing for Jill's.  
  
"NEVER!!" the Doctor yelled. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few cricket balls and firecrackers.  
  
"What the..?" the Dictator yelled.  
  
"As Ace might say, 'Eat this, suckers'!" the Doctor yelled, throwing the objects at the Dictator's soldiers. The cricket balls bounced into the soldiers, too fast for them to be targeted. The firecrackers struck the Dictator himself, burning him in some places and setting his cloak on fire from all the sparks.  
  
"AARRGGHH!!" he screamed, as an energy field began to form around him. The burns were too much for him, especially with his recent vulnerability due to the regeneration, and it was destroying the body before it had even stabilised.  
  
"I hope you didn't like that incarnation that much, because it's going to die now! Goodbye!" the Doctor yelled, as he dived towards the TARDIS, pulling his door key out of his pocket as he ran. Even in his haste, he noted that the Dictator's TARDIS had assumed the form of a Police Box when it appeared in the alley, very like his own.  
  
"YOU... WON'T...ESCAAAAPPPPEEEE...!!!" the Dictator yelled, his voice slurring.  
  
"I just did!" the Doctor yelled back as he opened the TARDIS doors and charge into his ship. Almost in one movement, he shut the doors and set the TARDIS to dematerialise.  
  
Sighing, he collapsed into his armchair. He was out, and in the nick of time too. By his estimate, he'd have run out of time if he'd remained in that Universe for any longer, and the TARDIS instruments confirmed that history was still the way it had always been.  
  
For the moment, the Doctor thought to himself. If Jill was accurate, unless he intervened in history at the point of the Dictator's take-over and alteration and put it to rights, he'd more likely that not travel to a time after 2003 at some point and history would be forever altered. He had to track the Dictator down and stop him before that happened.  
  
And I went there looking for a break from the dangerous life, the Doctor groaned to himself. He really needed to sort himself out and take that holiday soon, but this wasn't the time for that right now.  
  
Heading over to the console, the Doctor began to activate the time- alteration scanner. He didn't use this that much, preferring research in the timelines since this was extremely unstable and highly draining on the TARDIS's link to the Eye of Harmony, but he didn't have much options.  
  
As he turned it on, the Doctor reached up and pulled the viewer down to a height where he could see it. On the screen was a long dateline, currently focused on 2381, the year he'd just left. As the Doctor watched, a long green line formed, stretching back along the dateline. The line was already on the twenty-third century, the twenty-second, the twenty-first... it stopped, blinking on and off, on the twelfth day of April, 2003. Although history had been altered before that date, it was nothing extremely serious.  
  
Better aim for a little earlier than that, the Doctor thought to himself, as he began to enter the coordinates into the TARDIS. After a brief contemplation, he set the temporal coordinates for 25th February, and, after a brief moment of contemplation, set the spatial coordinates for the Brigadier's home. He was going to need some help with this one.  
  
Here goes nothing... the Doctor said. He activated the TARDIS.  
  
The time rotor began to move up and down again, as the TARDIS hurtled backwards through Time, heading for the source of the crisis. 


	5. Plans of Infiltration

Chapter Four  
Plans of Infiltration  
  
Placing on his old UNIT hat, the Brigadier examined the overall effect in the study mirror. It hadn't been a long while since he'd worn this old thing, almost five or so months really, but he still found it hard to imagine that he was wearing this at seventy-five. And to foil a hostile takeover of UNIT...!  
  
"I'm starting to get a bit old for this..." he groaned to himself, as he sat down on the chair while loading his gun. After a brief moment of contemplation, he decided to just go with the simple lead bullets- the Cortez Project was unlikely to be working with Cybermen, and demons were even less of a possibility. Anyway, Miss Spencer would probably be able to get access to some more damaging weapons if the need arose.  
  
"Are you done, dear?" Doris asked, walking into the study. She had her coat and scarf on. "My bags are all packed and the taxi's here, but I just wanted to say goodbye."  
  
"Good to hear that, Doris," he smiled at her. "Have fun, while you're away."  
  
"I will. At least, I'll try to manage without worrying about you too much," she replied, a little sheepishly.  
  
"I'll survive, dear. I always do," the Brigadier smiled.  
  
"Good luck," she replied. The two of them embraced, and she kissed him. "Don't get killed, whatever happens." Then she turned around and went out the door, heading for the taxi.  
  
As the Brigadier looked out the window, the taxi was already driving away. Sighing a little, he slipped his gun into its holster and reached over to a nearby drawer. Opening it, he pulled out what looked like an old cash register with a small circular antenna attached to it. Although it didn't look like much, the Brigadier knew that it was his only means of contacting the Doctor, his old friend, former Scientific Advisor, and right now, his best hope for assistance.  
  
"Doc-" he began, when he was suddenly interrupted by a wheezing, groaning noise. Looking around the corner of the door, the Brigadier saw the familiar blue form of the TARDIS's Police Box shell, slowly fading into existence in his main living room, just beside the fireplace.  
  
"Never thought he'd ever show up before I've even finished asking for his help. Wonder which one I'll get this time?" he mused.  
  
Just as he'd said that, the Police Box form solidified and the door opened. Out of it came a little man in a brown coat, trousers and shoes, a white shirt under his blood-red waistcoat, a straw hat on his head, and carrying a red question mark handled umbrella. The Brigadier allowed himself a little sigh of relief- the Doctors he'd encountered recently were mainly predecessors of this one, so at least he wouldn't have too much problems with mentioning something that this one wasn't aware of yet. "That was quick, Doctor."  
  
Looking up, the Doctor stared at the Brigadier, with one expression on his face that the Brigadier wasn't used to seeing on the face of this incarnation of his old friend. Bafflement.  
  
"What are you talking about?" he asked his old friend. "I just came here on my own initiative. You never even sent a call."  
  
"What?" the Brigadier asked, staring at the Doctor. "Then why are you here?"  
  
"Time problem," the Doctor replied, looking at his friend. "I've just come from the future, and it's not the same as I know it. What's the crisis you tried to call me about?"  
  
"What?" the Brigadier asked. He couldn't understand the sudden change of subject from what they had been talking about.  
  
"Well, if it required me, it must be serious," the Doctor replied. "Therefore, there's a good chance that it's what caused the problem I've discovered. What is it, the Master?"  
  
"No, Doctor," the Brigadier said. "At least, not as far as I know. It's the Cortez Project. They've taken over UNIT central command and replaced all senior field officers with their own personnel."  
  
"Ah," the Doctor said simply, as he walked in the kitchen and slumped down in a nearby chair. "Well, that would certainly qualify."  
  
"Sorry I can't give you better news," the Brigadier commented. "I know you were hoping they'd been dealt with."  
  
"I was," the Doctor replied, as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. "My last encounter with them wasn't very successful. They nearly started an interplanetary war, almost wrecked one of my most complex plans, and shot Sarah-"  
  
"Shot Miss Smith?!" the Brigadier cried, spinning around. "I was never told that at the meetings!"  
  
"Really?" the Doctor said, looking up at his old friend. "That's suggestive, isn't it?"  
  
"How?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"Simple," the Doctor said. "The investigation into the Cortez Project, was it dropped because nobody could find anything?"  
  
"Right," the Brigadier replied, wondering where his friend was going with this.  
  
"But if you'd known about Sarah getting shot, you'd have continued your investigation until you turned something up?" the Doctor asked.  
  
"Naturally," the Brigadier replied, as he began to absorb just what the Doctor was saying. The only way he could have not been told about Sarah having being shot was if there was a high-ranking officer at UNIT in the pay of the Cortez Project... "How high up does this go, Doctor?"  
  
"Unknown," the Doctor replied. Tipping his hat back from his head, the Time Lord looked over at his friend. "Anyway, it could just be a simple dupe- someone who thinks the Project is just a country's branch of UNIT. We need an inside source to the Project if we're going to get any more information. Have you any ideas who we could use?"  
  
"One," the Brigadier replied. "Miss Spencer, current Scientific Advisor to UNIT. You met her a year or two ago- at least, the last you...is the one in the rainbow-coloured coat the previous you?"  
  
"He is," the Doctor commented. "Oh, and that statement of yours isn't quite right, Brigadier. It may have been only a year for you since I met Nina, but for me it's been nearly sixty years. Still, let's see how she's doing. Can you arrange a meeting with her?"  
  
"One's already set up, Doctor," the Brigadier smiled. "I'm meeting her in McGregor's Tavern at four to discuss what to do about the whole problem. Gives us a little time to have a drink and fill each other in on the problem as we see it."  
  
"Excellent!" the Doctor smiled. "If we're going to a tavern, then alcohol now wouldn't be the best idea, but I have a few bottles of sparkling water if that would do?"  
  
"Perfect," the Brigadier smiled, as he followed the Doctor into the TARDIS.  
  
*****  
  
Three forty-five, Nina groaned to herself as she slumped down in the chair at the tavern. Fifteen minutes until my meeting. Why am I always so damn punctual to these things?  
  
Of course, that question was easy enough to answer. Her uncle had constantly drummed several things into her after she said she wanted to join UNIT- in headquarters, if it moves, salute it, and if it doesn't, whitewash it; in the battlefield, if it moves, shoot it, and if it doesn't, shoot it just in case it does; and always be a few minutes early for meetings. She'd taken them all in, but sometimes, Nina had to think to herself that she was taking the last one too far, on occasions like this one. She made a mental note to herself to cut down on being so early for some meetings- at least five minutes early the next time round. Sighing, she shrugged her brown coat off, her lab coat having been left in her lab for the night, hung it behind her chair, and waited.  
  
A waiter came over to her table and asked what she wanted. Not being in the mood for an alcoholic drink, and not seeing much point in ordering a real meal when the Brigadier would be showing up soon and the two of them would be talking too much to bother about eating, she just asked for a glass of cranberry and apple, and sat back in her chair as the waiter went off.  
  
Reaching over to her bag, she pulled some files out and began to idly flip through them. This was about everything she'd managed to acquire on the Cortez Project, and she had to admit, it wasn't that much. A few things about when they were set up (1993, they'd been around a lot longer then she'd thought), who the highest-up officers were (A General Marinna Kyle and a chap called Commander Chris Harper, neither of which rang a bell in her memory), and a few things about their defensive strategies against any attacking aliens (Nothing different from UNIT methods, baring the notes on attacking friendly aliens, like orders to shoot the Doctor on both sides of the chest if he appeared).  
  
She briefly broke off her train of thought to take a quick sip from her newly arrived cranberry and apple, noting with relief that it was nice and cold. The bar was a little hot, and a cold drink was exactly what she really needed.  
  
Turning back to the files, Nina tried to spot anything out of the ordinary. No matter how big the Cortez Project was, they couldn't have just managed to take over the whole of UNIT central command after one or two attacks, so they had to have a high up inside man.  
  
Or at least an expert hypnotist, Nina thought to herself briefly. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened- she recalled early files of the Doctor's time in UNIT about that other Time Lord, the Master. That chap had managed to hypnotize so many people- at least two Cambridge scientists, a prison governor, a policeman, even one of the Doctor's own assistants...!  
  
Hope it's not him, Nina thought to herself, as she turned around to slip the files back into her bag- only two or three minutes until the Brigadier was due to show up. The last thing I need is an enraged time-traveller on my hands. I rather like my life- don't want to be erased from existence by some jerk with an odd little beard...  
  
"Nina?" a voice said from the other end of her table. Looking around at the source of the voice, Nina saw two men sitting at the other sides of her table. One she recognised at once- it was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, in his civilian clothes of a brown jacket and trousers, a blue checked shirt, and black shoes. The other man, however, was a complete stranger to her. He was a short man, a little shorter than the Brigadier, and he was wearing a brown coat, trousers and shoes, a white shirt under his blood-red waistcoat, a straw hat on his head, and carrying a red question mark handled umbrella. However, what Nina really noticed about him was that he was grinning at her as though he already knew her well, when she'd never seen him before in her life.  
  
"Hello, Brigadier," she smiled, looking at her old friend.  
  
"Good to see you again, Miss Spencer," the Brigadier replied, nodding at her. Returning the nod, Nina looked over at the other man.  
  
"Um, you'll forgive me if I say that I don't recognise you, right?" she asked the man. "I mean, I normally never forget a face, but you're not ringing any bells, I'm afraid."  
  
"Oh, don't worry Nina," the man smiled back at her. "You're not losing your memory. I'm the Doctor."  
  
"Ah," Nina commented, looking at the man. That wasn't exactly comforting, either- now he was claiming to be a man who wore clothes that made a circus clown look like the picture of elegance and style? Well, she had read about how the Doctor changed his appearance at times, but she'd always thought he was just good with disguising himself, not a... shape- shifter...  
  
"Prove it," she said, staring at him.  
  
"Pardon?" the man asked, looking over at her.  
  
"If you're really the Doctor, then answer this; what piece of technology did I possess that you rewired and used to stop the Kralls?" Nina asked. She hadn't given exact details in her report, just saying the Doctor had managed to hack the Krall's CPUs without specifying how he'd done it.  
  
"Your mobile phone," the man replied. "When I took it from you, I then asked if you happened to have your sonic screwdriver on you, and when you said you'd never even touched one, I just groaned and commented to myself, 'Not Romana, Doctor...' Mel asked me who I was referring to, and I just dismissed it with a wave of my hand and set to work on the phone with a normal screwdriver I'd found in my pocket. After the entire thing was over, you offered to take Mel and I down to a tavern you know for a celebration drink, but I declined, commenting that I felt like celebrating by heading off to relax in 1969, since I'd rarely visited that year." He reached over, and placed his hand on hers. "It is me, Nina. I just had to regenerate my body after I hit my head on an exercise bike, and I'm radically different in personality as well, but it is still me. So, what do you think of this model?"  
  
Nina slumped back into her chair, as she raised her eyes to the ceiling. Looking back down, she smiled at the Doctor. "Different, I'll admit. For one thing, you actually blend in if you're in a crowd in this form."  
  
"Yes, I was hardly subtle then, was I?" the Doctor smiled back at her. "It's good to see you, Nina."  
  
"Um, excuse me," the Brigadier said, giving a little cough. "While this reunion is all well and good, you two do remember that we have a crisis to attend to?"  
  
"Oh, of course," the Doctor said, raising his hand and beckoning the waiter over.  
  
"Yes, sir?" the waiter said, as he arrived at the table.  
  
"A ginger beer and a pint of Guinness, please," the Doctor said.  
  
"Certainly, sir," the waiter replied, heading away.  
  
"Alcohol? Doesn't at least one of you two need a clear head to get your car home?" Nina asked, as the drinks appeared on the table.  
  
"Oh, no worries there," the Doctor smiled. "My Gallifreyian biology will digest the alcohol in time for me to drive Bessie back. Now, the information on the crisis, if you please?"  
  
*****  
  
Over the course of a few drinks, Nina sticking with cranberry and apple to enable her to drive back home after the discussion, Nina gave the Doctor and the Brigadier the situation. She showed them the file on the alleged Nedenah attack, explained how the Cortez Project saw the situation, based on what she'd gathered from what Disch had told her, and showed them the new attack notes. Once she'd finished talking, she was on her fourth cranberry and apple, the Doctor was on his sixth ginger beer, and the Brigadier was on his fourth Guinness.  
  
"Dire," the Brigadier commented, while he sipped his pint of Guinness. "That blasted Project appears to have gotten a very firm grasp on central command. Any theories as to how they managed to get that far that fast, Doctor?"  
  
"A few," the Doctor replied, as he downed another ginger beer. "However, based on what I've seen in the future, I'd bet a Time Lord's involved in some way or another, although whether he's in charge or not remains to be-"  
  
"Seen in the future?" Nina asked, staring at him.  
  
"Have you a problem with me time travelling?" the Doctor asked, looking over at her. Nina noted that the Doctor's speech, even through that Scottish burr of his, was slightly slurred. Evidently, he may be able to handle it better than humans, but he still wasn't completely immune to getting drunk.  
  
"Well, no- I mean, I've read all your files, and I know you can time travel in that TARDIS of yours, but... what was it like?" Nina asked.  
  
"Yes, Doctor, you never really went into great detail on that front," the Brigadier commented, looking over at the two of them. "What was it like then?"  
  
"Dark," the Doctor said simply. "Think of Earth at the end of World War Two, but with the damage doubled."  
  
"Yikes," Nina commented.  
  
"Well, that's only the basic idea of it," the Doctor commented. "If you're interested, this is the full story."  
  
"Tell it, Doctor," Nina said, as she took a quick sip of her drink. "We should get a better idea of the scale of the stakes here."  
  
And, as he went through at least two more ginger beers, the Doctor gave Nina and the Brigadier all the information he could on the alternate future he'd barely escaped from. The Brigadier was shocked to hear about the Dictator, and constantly asked the Doctor to go into as much detail about him as he could, while Nina, ever a scientist, asked about the Time Scales.  
  
"...And then I set the coordinates for this area of time, and that's about it," the Doctor said, finishing his story.  
  
The Brigadier and Nina simply sat in their chairs, staring ahead with a slightly blank expression on their faces. The Doctor took a quick sip of his ginger beer, and then thumped his glass back down onto the table, causing the two of them to look over at him.  
  
"What now, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"I don't know," the Doctor commented, as he stared down at his empty glass. "We need to get an inside look at the Cortez Project's operation somehow, but how? I mean, Nina may be posing as an operative, but I find it unlikely she'll be able to bring her friends in to talk to the commanders. The Official Secrets Act and all that, correct, Brigadier?"  
  
"True," the Brigadier commented, as he took a last sip from his glass. "There's no way Miss Spencer could get us into Cortez HQ, even if we were in disguise."  
  
"Unless..." Nina commented, reaching her hand into her coat pocket and pulling out her party invitation, "we use this."  
  
"What's that?" the Doctor asked, as he and the Brigadier craned their necks to get a look at it.  
  
"An invitation to a party the Cortez Project is throwing in a day or two," Nina smiled at her friends. "I'm allowed to bring friends, so long as I leave them in the main room of the party while I attend the more... private functions."  
  
"Cortez meetings," the Doctor commented, as he almost lifted his glass to his lips before remembering it was empty. "Would the meeting be held in generally the same building as the main party?"  
  
"As far as I can gather," Nina replied.  
  
"Yes, it is," the Brigadier put in, taking the invitation and examining it closely. "This address is a large hall. Got a few rooms of to the side here and there, but nothing nearby that anyone could to without arousing suspicion."  
  
"Perfect," the Doctor said, as he called the waiter over. "Bill, please," he asked.  
  
"Certainly, sir," the waiter replied, as he left.  
  
"Why's that perfect, Doctor?" Nina asked.  
  
"The party's in only two days, so I wouldn't have the time to set up a concealed long-range transmitter. But, since there won't be any other buildings in the way, I can build a short-range one and have it transmit to a receiver in my coat."  
  
"Nice idea," Nina commented, as the waiter arrived with the bill. She and the Brigadier instantly reached for their wallets, but the Doctor handed the waiter his credit card before either of them could get theirs out.  
  
"Thanks," the Brigadier commented.  
  
"No problem. I have an unpleasantly large amount of cash in my bank account as it is," the Doctor grinned. Getting up out of his seat, he asked, "Shall we go?"  
  
"Where to?" Nina asked, as the three of them left their seats and headed for the door. "I think the TARDIS," the Doctor replied, as they arrived on the streets and headed for their cars- the Doctor and the Brigadier a yellow Edwardian roadster, and Nina a silver IDDT with a convertible roof. "I need to get to work on that transmitter, and the materials I need are all in the TARDIS."  
  
"Where's that?" Nina asked, as she got into her car.  
  
"The Brigadier's house," the Doctor replied, as he and the Brigadier strapped on their seat belts. "Hope you know the way. See you there."  
  
"See you? In that old-" Nina began, before the car's engine suddenly revved into action, and it tore away down the road at an incredible speed.  
  
Staring after it, Nina's mouth dropped down in amazement. Then, gathering herself, she stuck her key in the ignition and turned the engine on. Pulling out of the side, she began to drive after the Doctor and the Brigadier, while thinking over the situation in her head.  
  
How did the Dictator know all about the Doctor from only one meeting?  
  
How could he have taken over the Earth?  
  
Were the Cortez Project involved or was that just a coincidence?  
  
*****  
  
An hour or so later, the IDDT pulled up into the Brigadier's drive, parking itself behind the yellow roadster. Getting out of her car and locking it, Nina walked up to the roadster and stared at it.  
  
"What's the deal with you, huh?" she asked the roadster. Leaning over, she looked at the dashboard. It had several switches and extra dials, but for the life of her Nina couldn't work out what each of them did, never mind how the Doctor had even got this thing capable of moving that fast.  
  
Tyres aren't even burnt which they should be, Nina though to herself, as she examined them. She knew something about friction, and she knew that no rubber material could actually last very long against the strain the Doctor had been putting it through.  
  
"It's not rubber, Nina," a voice said from behind her. "It's actually a substance that shall be developed in about sixty years. I'd give you the name of it, but then I'd have to kill you, or at least wipe your memory."  
  
Looking around, Nina saw the Doctor standing at the house door, leaning on his umbrella and watching her.  
  
"How long have you been here?" she asked him.  
  
The Doctor smiled a little. "If you mean how long have the Brigadier and I been waiting for you, then the answer is fifteen minutes. If, however, you mean how long have I been on Earth itself-"  
  
"It was the first one," Nina interrupted. Getting up from the path, she dusted herself down and entered the house, heading for the nearest door.  
  
Entering the room, she noticed the Brigadier, sitting in an armchair while he checked an old pistol of his. Looking around, Nina noticed that the room was remarkably well decorated. There were a few rather impressive paintings hanging on the walls, whose artists Nina couldn't immediately place, and there was a remarkably well-built desk in the corner, near an equally impressive bookcase. There were a couple of filing cabinets near the case, both of them with about two or three files on top.  
  
The only rather odd feature was an old-fashioned police call box near the fireplace, but Nina had barely glanced at that one before she noticed another armchair that looked remarkably comfortable. After seeing this one, Nina slumped down into it, exhausted by the problems of the day.  
  
"You deal with this kind of thing all the time the Doctor shows up?" Nina asked the Brigadier, as he put his gun down.  
  
"Not always. Sometimes it's downright impossible to understand," the Brigadier replied, as he slipped his gun away into its holster.  
  
"Ah. So, Doctor, any ideas how you and the Brigadier are going to be getting into the party?" Nina asked, as he walked into the sitting room. "Or about the transmitter, come to that. I mean, I can't see any way I can get some kind of a camera into a meeting of armed Cortez personnel and tape the said meeting without anybody noticing, never mind you two managing to get in without anyone recognising at  
  
least one of you."  
  
"Easy," the Doctor smiled, as he opened the door of the police box. "Step this way, if you please."  
  
"Any particular reason why?" Nina asked, as the Brigadier got up and walked right into the box.  
  
"My equipment's just inside," the Doctor explained. "I just need to take a quick scan of your iris to make sure the pattern's right, and we're ready to go."  
  
"Right," Nina said sceptically. Still, she decided, the files on the Doctor did often make reference to a police box where he 'lived', so it couldn't hurt to check it out. Getting out of the chair, she walked right through the door of the box...  
  
And stared in amazement at the interior.  
  
It was massive. That was the first thing she noticed. It was actually rather hard not to notice that, because it was massive to the extent of being a cathedral. In fact, it did look a little bit like a cathedral, Nina noted, with all the wooden panels in it. However, the panels were the only churchlike things in the building. There were also several bookcases in the walls, and one large wall full of drawers. An armchair was standing in one part of the building, and near that was an old-fashioned record player. However, the things that really drew Nina's attention was directly in the centre of the room. The console was the size of a large table, made of wood but it had several controls on it, in the form of levers, switches and a few. Metal girders surrounded the console, stretching up to the roof and then curving down to connect with a long, thin glass tube, stretching up from the centre of the console.  
  
"Wow..." she said, looking around her. Coming to her senses, Nina looked at the Doctor and the Brigadier, standing beside the console. "So, is it safe to assume this whole set-up isn't actually in our dimension?"  
  
"Exactly," the Doctor smiled, as he checked one of the dials on the console and pushed a button to shut the main door before heading off to a large door in the corner of the ship. "Only the exterior of a TARDIS exists in normal space/time. Of course, if the exterior's destroyed the interior instantly shifts into our reality, as I've discovered myself from unpleasantly first-hand experience, but that rarely ever happens."  
  
"So, has this thing got any limits to its size, or is it like the Universe in that it never ends?" Nina asked, as she and the Brigadier followed the Doctor.  
  
"Really, there isn't any fixed limit," the Doctor replied, as they began to walk down a long wooden corridor. "I can add rooms to the TARDIS just as easily as I can take them away, although I do need a little time to reconfigure the architecture. Really, it can be infinitely big."  
  
"Not bad," Nina commented, as the Doctor opened another door. As she entered it, followed closely by the Brigadier, Nina realised that the room was a wardrobe, albeit a very large one. There were racks and racks of clothes, some looking like they were from Earth's past, some looking remarkably futuristic, and some didn't look like anything that could have been worn by a normal human being.  
  
"You have all these clothes and you hardly vary your own outfit?" the Brigadier asked the Doctor. "I mean, I knew you had other clothes, Doctor, but this might as well be a shop, not a wardrobe!"  
  
"I don't really follow fashions, Brigadier," the Doctor commented, as he headed for a large trunk in one corner of the room. "Too much bother to keep track of. I'm far happier with whatever's the current me. Now then, let's see what we have here..." he commented, as he opened the trunk and began to rummage through it. As Nina and the Brigadier watched the Doctor discard several various odds and ends, including a rubber duck, a cat badge, a yo-yo, a recorder, a cricket ball, some sort of syringe, a couple of small black boxes, a signed copy of 'The Two Towers,' (Nina noted that one with a certain degree of surprise; she didn't think Tolkein had done much book signings) a small metal swastika, an Aztec bracelet, an old scroll, two parts of some kind of white rod with twelve or so buttons on one end...  
  
"Um, looking for anything in particular?" Nina asked, as the Doctor tugged out an old cricket stump and threw it over his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, actually," the Doctor replied. "And here they are!" he smiled, as he pulled out two complete head masks. "These should come in handy for infiltrating the party. Now, which one do you want, Brigadier?" he asked, holding them both up to the light. Nina noted that neither of the masks was going to be absolutely perfect- one of them appeared to be Humphrey Boggart's face, while the second one was George Takei.  
  
"Um, Doctor..." she said, just at the same time as the Brigadier.  
  
"Yes?" the Doctor asked, looking up at them with a small grin on his face.  
  
"No offence, but those masks aren't exactly...how do I put it...inconspicuous?" the Brigadier explained, as the Doctor turned the masks around to see the faces.  
  
"Ah," he commented, as a glimmer of recognition appeared in his eyes. "Still," he grinned, looking back at the two of them as he got back to his feet, "I can sort this little problem out in the laboratory."  
  
"Really? How, exactly?" Nina asked.  
  
"I'll explain once we're there," the Doctor said, as he slipped the two masks into his pockets and headed for the door.  
  
"Any ideas what he's going to do?" Nina asked the Brigadier.  
  
"None," the Brigadier replied. "Still, I'm rather used to it by now. He was always making gadgets and taking ages to reveal the point of them when we worked together in the seventies." He frowned a little. "Or was it the eighties...?"  
  
"Temporal slippage," the Doctor commented from the door of the room. "My fault, I'm afraid. A time-dwelling virus was trying to infect the TARDIS, and Sarah and I were forced to shift in between several various decades to prevent it becoming contaminated. I shook it off when I dragged it through the seventies and eighties by constantly stopping and starting the TARDIS, but it unfortunately caused Time in the immediate area of my travelling to slip about between one decade and another. I keep meaning to fix it, but something always seems to come up."  
  
"Ah," the Brigadier replied, evidently slightly confused at that statement.  
  
"Here we are," the Doctor said, as he opened another door in the corridor. Walking into it, Nina noticed that it was a laboratory, but a very odd one. While there was a table in one corner with a basin, pastel and mortar on it, with something in the basin that reminded Nina of dried leaves. Another table had a Victorian enlargement of a scientist's laboratory equipment, consisting of several test tubes and bottles held up by all kinds of stands. Several other tables were covered with all kinds of strange- looking machines, the only one of which Nina could identify was something that looked remarkably like a television set. The Doctor, however, was aiming for the largest table in the room, that was covered with several white boxes with electronic computer read-outs on the top and clear plastic handles on the doors. As Nina and the Brigadier arrived at the table, the Doctor opened one of the box's doors and threw the masks inside, before he shut it again.  
  
"Um, just out of curiosity, what are you doing to the masks?" Nina asked.  
  
"Oh, nothing to really be worried about, Nina. I'm just arranging things so that the Brigadier and I will be more inconspicuous at the party," the Doctor smiled.  
  
"Oh," Nina commented simply.  
  
"Exactly how are you doing that, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked. "I mean, I am going to have to wear one of those masks, so I'd prefer to know what it's been through."  
  
"It's easy, Brigadier," the Doctor smiled. "Those masks are made of a polymer memory fabric, that can mould itself to form the face that's on it perfectly, whatever shape the wearer's head is. All I'm doing is, in a sense, removing the fabric of its memories so that it moulds itself around certain parts of the face while remaining the same in others."  
  
"Ah," the Brigadier said. The Doctor's technobabble was still quite a bit beyond him at the best of times, but at least he'd actually followed that bit up to a certain point. "It's finished!" the Doctor smiled, pulling the box back open and taking the masks out. He tossed the Humphrey Boggart mask at the Brigadier, but put the George Takei one into his pocket. "Now, Miss Spencer, if you'd just be so kind as to put your eye here," he said, patting another one of the boxes which had a little glass hole in it. "That scan you mentioned, huh?" Nina asked, as she faced the hole. Looking inside it, she could just make out what appeared to be a small torch on some sort of hinge, but she couldn't see if it was attached to anything.  
  
"Exactly," the Doctor smiled, as he pushed a few little buttons on the side of the box. "Really, I'll just be installing a contact lens over your right eye, which transfers the pictures it sees to..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a portable television, "...this."  
  
Just as he said that, a green light suddenly flashed over Nina's right eye. Instinctively, she shut both her eyes, but the afterimage remained inside her eyelid.  
  
"Thank you," the Doctor smiled, as he studied the screen. "This'll take a little time to be constructed, and I've got to this thing-" here he pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and put it on the table, "fixed if I'm going to actually manage in this situation. However, once both of those are finished..."  
  
He left the sentence hanging. Nina decided to finish it off for him.  
  
"We're in." 


	6. Cortez Party

Chapter Five  
Cortez Party  
  
February 26th 2003  
  
"Are you sure this'll work?" Nina asked, as she shifted uncomfortably in her driver's seat. The dress she was wearing had seemed like a good choice for the party- an attractive ankle-length red one with no sleeves- but it was starting to get a little uncomfortable, and her eye was itching from the Doctor's eye camera. She was longing to rub it, but the Doctor had told her not to, on the grounds that it might send the lens right round to the other side of her eye.  
  
"Honestly? No, I'm not sure at all," the Doctor said, as he pulled his mask out of his pocket and looked at it. He was wearing a tuxedo that he claimed to have worn to the final showing of a film in 1947, but he didn't look all that comfortable in it, from what Nina could see in the rear-view mirror. "But we don't have any better options, and I have to know who this 'Stranger', or 'Dictator', or whatever he's calling himself now, really is."  
  
"I'm not sure I can pull this off," the Brigadier commented, shifting uncomfortably in the front passenger seat. He looked even worse in his tuxedo than the Doctor, but at least it looked slightly better with his mask on. "Doctor, you know I rarely did stealth even when I was in active service. That was more Mike Yate's job, not mine."  
  
"Look, it's perfectly simple," the Doctor said. "You just keep the mask and the distorter on all the time, and it should work perfectly. Besides, you've got your baton in your pocket should things get too out of control and we need to fight anybody, and I have my sonic screwdriver as well."  
  
"That had better be right," the Brigadier commented, as he looked at the small plastic strip the Doctor had given him before they left the house. "I'm not comfortable with entrusting my vocal chords to a piece of futuristic technology."  
  
"It's fine, Brigadier," the Doctor smiled, as he pulled out his own strip and slipped it and the mask on. "So, how do I look?" he said. Nina noted with some surprise that was actually rather effective- his accent actually sounded a little Japanese instead of his customary Scots burr.  
  
The mask was also very effective, Nina noted- the forehead was higher than the Doctor's was, almost egg-shaped, which was entered even more noticeable by the fact that the fringe had been slightly shaved. The nose also looked a little bent, like it had been broken by a strong punch at least three times, maybe four, and it stuck up a little as well. The mask also covered the eyes, and were now blue instead of the Doctor's normal piercing grey. The chin was also slightly pointed, and he'd added a touch more hair to the eyebrows.  
  
"Well, here I go," the Brigadier sighed, as he pulled the mask on over his head as he stuck the plastic strip over his throat. The effect on him, too, was very striking- the hair was slightly longer than the genuine Boggart's hair had been, and the Doctor had added a moustache and a small goatee to the mask as well. The head had also been made more skin-tight than it had been before, so that it was almost the same shape as the Brigadier's, except for the fact that it was a little rounder around the cheeks. The nose, too, was a bit larger, and the eyes were a combination colour of brown and green. "Does it look real?" he asked. That, too, sounded different- it was a lot deeper and rougher than the Brigadier's normal voice, and had a small trace of an Irish accent in it.  
  
"Now, remember," the Doctor said, as the hall began to come into view over the horizon, "from this point on, I'm Professor Ian Jackson, a physicist, and the Brigadier is James Edwards, a writer trying to get an inside look at army life for his latest book."  
  
"Check," Nina replied, as she stopped just outside the hall. "Here goes nothing..." she thought to herself as she looked at the hall. It was made of large grey bricks, and you couldn't deny that it was big- at least three stories high, the hall had an entranceway so large several people could possibly have fit inside it at once. It had a large clock at the top of a very tall tower on the front as well, and reminded Nina, with its high walls and imposing structure, of the old UNIT file photos of Strangmoor Prison.  
  
A young footman wearing a blue and gold uniform appeared at the side of the car, opening the Brigadier and the Doctor's doors, before going round to the other side of the car to open Nina's. "Good evening, sirs, ma'am," he said, as the three of them stepped out of the car. "May I see your invitation?"  
  
"Right here," Nina said, passing it to the footman.  
  
The footman looked at it, his eyes taking the whole thing in after only a few seconds. "That seems to be in order for you, Miss Spencer," he said, passing the ticket back to her. "May I inquire as to the identity of your friends?"  
  
"Oh, of course," Nina smiled, as she indicated the Doctor. "This is Professor Ian Jackson- I met him at a science conference, brilliant physicist," she said to the man, before indicating the Brigadier, "and this is Mr James Edwards- he's working on an army novel, and I bought him along so he could get a look at what we do in our free time."  
  
"Very well," the footman said, indicating the door. No sooner had the Doctor, the Brigadier and Nina stepped inside the entrance hall, then they caught the sound of music from further inside.  
  
I feel so alive  
  
Make it last forever  
  
Every day is fine  
  
Whenever we're together  
  
I'm so alive  
  
Loving every minute  
  
Underneath the sky  
  
There's a heaven for you and I  
  
"Isn't that S Club?" the Doctor commented, as they headed up the steps towards the main door.  
  
"You know them?" the Brigadier asked. "I though you generally favoured classical music? No wait, this version likes jazz, correct?"  
  
"Yes to both of them, but Susan and I spent a few months on Earth in this era, but decided we felt like visiting the sixties for a while," the Doctor explained. "Still I suppose I just picked up a bit of a fondness for it in my time. Ah, here's the hall," he added suddenly, as they entered the door.  
  
"Wow," Nina commented, as she stared around the hall.  
  
It certainly looked as impressive on the inside as it did on the outside, Nina was prepared to admit- the roof was incredibly high up, stretching through all three floors of the building judging by the balconies to the sides of it, and the top of it was covered with so many rafters you could barely see the plaster. The walls beneath the balconies were covered with wooden panels, reminding Nina a little of the TARDIS's console room, baring the noteworthy absence of the console. At one end of the hall was a large stage with what seemed to be a large radio on it, baring the fact that it was a great deal bigger and most of the controls appeared to be on the back. There was a door, presumably leading to the stage itself, on the right side of the stage. The rest of the hall was covered with tables near the walls, while the central floor was filled with people dancing. Nina also noticed a bar in the right wall, with several of the couples that weren't dancing drinking there.  
  
As soon as I blink  
  
You're playing around  
  
It's makin' me think that  
  
You're not the man 'cos  
  
You're dissin' me, dissin' me  
  
Blink, you're playing around  
  
I think you're going down  
  
All I gotta do is blink  
  
"Rosie Ribbons' Blink?" the Brigadier commented. "Am I imagining it, or hasn't that one been out for a while?"  
  
"It's not your imagination," the Doctor replied, as he sat down in a nearby seat, Nina and the Brigadier taking seats beside him. "I made a point of learning the eras of some popular singers just in case it ever came in useful, and Miss Ribbons had that song out ages ago."  
  
"Couldn't it just be CDs?" Nina pointed out.  
  
"This out of date?" the Doctor commented. "Susan visited a couple of discos while we were in this era, and it's practically a rule that they have music that's recently out playing."  
  
"Is there a problem?" another voice said. Looking around, the three of them saw another footman standing behind them, rather like the one they'd met outside, but older, and with more stubble on his chin.  
  
"Problem? No, not really. More a little puzzle," the Doctor replied, smiling at the man in a friendly way. "Why are you playing music that came out a few months ago? As I recall, parties like this are very up-to-date where music is concerned."  
  
"The budget," the footman replied simply. "We were unable to get some of the latest CD's for this- we have little spare money in this job, and the cost of hiring the hall alone was a severe drain on our spare cash. Our commander, General Harper, had to supply all the CDs himself from his children's collection."  
  
"His children's?" Nina commented. "Man, you guys really don't have a lot of cash to throw around."  
  
"No, we don't. We just try to do our best with what we have," the footman said, as he walked away.  
  
"Odd," Nina commented. "From what I read in the files, Harper didn't strike me as much of a father character."  
  
"Hmm..." the Brigadier commented, as he looked over at the Doctor. "Could he be the Dictator, Doctor?"  
  
"Mmm? Harper? Oh, yes, yes, maybe..." the Doctor replied idly, as he glanced over at the bar. "Excuse me for a moment, will you? I need to get a drink."  
  
In places no one will find  
  
All your feelings so deep inside  
  
Was there that I realised  
  
That forever was in your eyes  
  
The moment I saw you cry  
  
"Mandy Moore, Cry..." the Doctor said, half to himself as he headed over to the bar. "A ginger beer, please," he said to the barman, passing him a two pound coin. While he waited, he hummed to himself a little. This had been an old favourite of his in a past incarnation, so he could easily remember how to sing it.  
  
"'It was late in September, And I'd seen you before... You were always the good one, But I was never that sure... You were all by yourself, staring up out a dark grey sky... I was changed...'"  
  
"Not bad," Nina said, as she suddenly appeared in the seat beside the Doctor. "Cranberry and apple, please," she told the barman, as he came back with the Doctor's drink.  
  
"Certainly, ma'am," the barman replied, as he put the ginger beer down and then turned away.  
  
"Where's the Brigadier?" the Doctor asked Nina out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Asking around," Nina replied in the same way. "He's using his cover to pretend to ask about army life, trying to find out about any chinks in the Project's routine, like you requested."  
  
"Perfect," the Doctor smiled, as he took a quick swig of his ginger beer. "If he doesn't notice something fishy, I'll head off to Gallifrey and ask my cousin Innocet out for a ride in the TARDIS."  
  
"That unlikely to happen?" Nina asked.  
  
"She and I didn't really part on good terms," the Doctor replied.  
  
"Oh," Nina said simply. Privately, she wondered what those terms had been, but the Doctor seemed unwilling to elaborate, so she didn't bother. He wasn't the kind to be forced into doing anything he didn't want to, she knew.  
  
I'm gonna getcha while I got you in sight  
  
I'm gonna getcha if it takes all night  
  
You can betcha by the time I say go  
  
You'll never say no.  
  
I'm gonna getcha it's a matter of fight  
  
I'm gonna getcha don't you worry 'bout that  
  
You can bet your bottom dollar in time  
  
You're gonna be mine  
  
Just like I should  
  
I'll getcha good  
  
"How do some people come up with songs like that?" the Brigadier asked, as he joined the Doctor and Nina at the Brigadier.  
  
"Shania Twain not your cup of tea?" Nina asked as she took a sip of her drink. "Well, she's all right, but mainly if you like that sort of thing."  
  
"Yes, quite," the Doctor commented as he put his ginger beer back down on the table. "Still, we didn't come here to discuss music. Anything odd about the Cortez Project's set-up, Brigadier?"  
  
"Nothing major," the Brigadier replied, as he beckoned the barman over. "One Guinness, please," he said, before turning back to the others. "They do have a policy of shoot to kill whatever the adversary is unless their superiors order otherwise, but apart from that there's nothing that I haven't seen before here."  
  
"Drat," the Doctor said to himself. "That makes finding what's going on here even more difficult."  
  
"We'll work something out," Nina smiled. "Maybe somebody will make a mistake and say something incriminating at the meeting."  
  
"Somehow, I doubt it," the Doctor said. "Still, it never hurt to hope, I suppose."  
  
Nobody told me you'd feel so good  
  
Nobody said you'd be so beautiful  
  
Nobody warned me about your smile  
  
You're the light, you're the light  
  
When I close my eyes  
  
I'm colour blind  
  
"Ah, Darius," the Doctor smiled to himself. "I've never been able to place exactly what I find so appealing about it, but there is a certain something."  
  
"'A certain something'?" the Brigadier said, smiling at his old friend. "I never thought I'd ever hear you saying something like that, Doctor."  
  
"Well, several other people seem to like it," the Doctor commented, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the hall dance floor.  
  
It was certainly getting crowded, the Brigadier noted privately as he looked at it. Several more people appeared to have decided to dance since the time he'd been going around asking questions, and the floor was filled with all kinds of dancing people. Some were simply slowly waltzing in each other's arms, even though Colour Blind, in the Brigadier's opinion, didn't seem like that kind of song. Others were doing what seemed more appropriate for this music- dancing facing each other without actually holding onto them. Looking around at them, the Brigadier which of them were involved in the Project. And of those who were, how many of them knew the full truth of the organization they served?  
  
"It's never easy, is it?" Nina said, breaking into the Brigadier's train of thought. "Pardon?" he asked, looking around back at her.  
  
"Knowing who's really the bad guys and who's just making a mistake," Nina said. "I noticed you examining those guys with a quizzical look in your eyes."  
  
"Oh. Yes, that's just what I was thinking," the Brigadier sighed, as he looked around again.  
  
In the headlights on the road tonight  
  
Ain't nobody here to make it right  
  
But we couldn't seem to find a way For love to stay  
  
If you had another night to give  
  
I would have another night to live  
  
But you're never going to see me cry  
  
The last goodbye  
  
"Atomic Kitten?" the Doctor said, half to himself, as he sipped a little at his ginger beer. "Haven't heard them in a while."  
  
"Another favourite?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"Well, I once took Susan to a concert of theirs, although I didn't really pay much attention. I think I was having one of my bad decades at the time."  
  
"Really?" Nina said, as she took a quick sip or her cranberry and apple. "Would that decade have been during the version of you that I knew first, or was it an earlier one than that?"  
  
"Earlier."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Just then, another group of people arrived at the bar. It wasn't a large group- four men and three women- but they seemed to have been doing more drinking then dancing. "Hhheeeyyy!!!" one man said slumping down on the bar and waving a bottle in the Brigadier's face. "Where's the party? Hey, I gotta bottle! Wheresa party?"  
  
"How much have these people been drinking, would you estimate, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, turning to his friend.  
  
"Well, at least six bottles," the Doctor replied, glaring at the group. "You know, it's people like them that make me wonder why I like this planet so much."  
  
"Well, sorry for not being as good as the Time Lords," Nina said, as she waved one man away from her and took another sip of her drink.  
  
The Doctor smiled, as he took another sip of his drink. "Maybe that's it."  
  
Ignoring the three of them, the man raised one shaking hand and called the barman over.  
  
"Absinthe, barman!" the man yelled, waving his hand up high. "Five glasses, and fasasasasasast!"  
  
"I stand corrected," the Doctor commented to Nina. "If they're drinking absinthe, they've only had two bottles."  
  
"Pathetic, really," Nina said, sipping from her drink again. Looking at the men over the top of her glass, she noticed that one of the men in the group was checking her out, as if considering asking her for a dance. Nina gave him a hard stare that she'd perfected some while ago, that gave the very clear impression that she wasn't interested, and the man backed down.  
  
Oh, life goes on  
  
And it's only going to make me strong  
  
That's a fact  
  
Won't you get up boy, say you're sad and you can't go back  
  
Oh, it's a fight  
  
And I really want to get it right  
  
Where I'm at  
  
It's my life before me  
  
And I've this felling that I can't go back  
  
"Leann Rimes," the Doctor smiled to himself, as he swallowed another pint of ginger beer. Then, he put his bottle down, and his face took on a very serious expression. "Out for far too long."  
  
"What?" the Brigadier asked. He was trying to follow the Doctor, but he'd drunk quite a bit of alcohol already, and was feeling a little confused.  
  
"Too many of these songs have been out for too long," the Doctor explained, as his eyes began to flick around the room. "You'd expect more recent music, even in a child's collection." The Brigadier noticed, with some surprise, that the Doctor appeared to be looking mainly at the young women at the party- he'd never known his friend going in for that kind of thing. "If I'm going to get the truth, I need to test a theory of mine."  
  
"Which is?" Nina asked.  
  
"This," the Doctor smiled, as he leapt out of his seat and headed towards one of the women he been looking at. She had blonde, shoulder-length hair, was wearing a sparkling blue dress that came down to around her knees, and was standing in one corner with a group of various other women.  
  
"Thanks, I'd love to!" the Doctor smiled, as he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the others.  
  
"Love to what?" she asked him, a little confused.  
  
"Dance, of course!" the Doctor smiled, as he began to dance. Bemused, but apparently enjoying herself, the girl began to follow his moves.  
  
From their seat at the bar, the Brigadier and Nina watched their friend as he began to dance away.  
  
"I think she likes the mask more than anything else," the Brigadier said.  
  
"Pardon?" Nina asked, looking over at him.  
  
"She doesn't know him at all, yet she hasn't shoved him away yet," the Brigadier replied simply.  
  
"Point, I suppose," Nina commented, as she took another sip of her drink. "You know, I doubt I'll ever really understand this guy."  
  
"Don't worry about it," the Brigadier smiled. "I sometimes feel I know him better than anyone else, and I still don't understand him."  
  
The Brigadier beckoned the barman over. "Another Guinness, please," he said, raising his glass.  
  
"Very good, sir," the man replied, as he took the glass and left.  
  
What's the Doctor doing over there, anyway? Nina thought, as the Doctor and his partner suddenly reached the stage. Why did he start dancing?  
  
Just as she was wondering that, the Doctor suddenly broke away from his partner and started to say something to her. To the Brigadier's surprise, she then slapped the Doctor in the face, and walked back to her friends. The Doctor simply looked back at the bar, waved at Nina and the Brigadier, and then headed back to them.  
  
"Well, that got her out of the way," the Doctor smiled, as he sat back down in his seat.  
  
"What did?" Nina asked.  
  
"Well, I didn't want her hanging around after I'd found out what I needed to know," the Doctor explained. "So, I simply made a deliberately insulting comment, and she left me."  
  
"Oh," Nina said, glancing over at the woman. She certainly didn't look very happy, and she hoped that, whatever the Doctor had said, it hadn't been too bad. "Whatever you said, could you have come up with something gentler?"  
  
"Maybe," the Doctor replied. Scratching his throat a little, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sorry, the distorter's getting a little sore. Anyway, I didn't really have the time to come up with something gentler, and I was a little shaken as well. I've just discovered something else."  
  
"What?" the Brigadier asked, looking over from his third pint of Guinness. He seemed to be swaying a little, but looked relatively clear on what was going on.  
  
"The Dictator is involved," the Doctor said. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he began to spin it round and round in his hands, as he stared up to the roof. "And whoever he is, he regards Time itself as nothing more than one of his tools."  
  
"That's not good," Nina said. "I mean, I don't have your knowledge of time and that, but I'm fairly sure you don't treat Time like that."  
  
"How did you work that out, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"With this," the Doctor said, holding his sonic screwdriver out. "While I was dancing, I used this to take a quick scan of the music box by slipping this behind her back. I detected faint readings of temporal energy."  
  
"Meaning?" Nina asked. She knew what temporal energy was, of course, but she didn't follow what it being near to the radio had to do with anything.  
  
"The Dictator, whoever he is, has developed a very unique kind of radio," the Doctor explained. "It reaches back into the past, pulls out various radio waves, and then transfers them to the speakers. He didn't reach into the present because the Time lords could detect that, but if it's in the past, they could get the point of origin of the signal wrong."  
  
"Wow," Nina said. "Well, you can't say he isn't smart."  
  
"Actually, you could," the Doctor said. "Time Lords could generally make something like that very easily. So, by Time Lord standards, he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed."  
  
"Well, I suppose that's something," Nina groaned. Just then, Nina felt a brief, but firm, tap on her shoulder. Turning round, she saw the older footman standing behind her.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss Spencer, but your meeting awaits," he said simply.  
  
"Oh, right. Sorry, almost forgot about that," Nina said, as she got out of her seat. "Ian, James, be back soon, OK?"  
  
"Check, Nina. Don't take too long!" the Doctor smiled, as he slipped one hand into his pocket.  
  
*****  
  
As Nina walked away, he pulled out the receiver and gently shoved the Brigadier on the shoulder.  
  
"Uh? What is it, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, raising his head off the table.  
  
"You really should cut back on the drinks, Brigadier," the Doctor smiled at his friend. "Anyway, as I was about to say, Nina's going off to the Cortez Project meeting right now. We should soon be finding out exactly who's behind this whole affair."  
  
The Brigadier leaned over and looked at the receiver's screen. It was currently showing nothing other than blackness. "Not much on, is there?"  
  
"Well, of course not," the Doctor sighed. "I haven't even turned it on yet. Now, let's see what we have here..." he said, as he leaned over the receiver and began to work away at some of the controls.  
  
All that you see is me  
  
Although I truly believe  
  
That I was born to try  
  
I'll learn to love  
  
Be understanding  
  
And believe in life  
  
But you've gotta make choices  
  
Be wrong or right  
  
Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice  
  
The things you like  
  
But I was born to try  
  
"Ah, Delta Goodrem," the Brigadier commented, as he moved one seat up so that he could see the receiver better.  
  
"You know of her?" the Doctor asked, as he fiddled a little with some dials at the side of the receiver.  
  
"Only a little," the Brigadier commented. "Doris is always watching those soap operas- you know, Neighbours, Eastenders, that sort of thing."  
  
"Oh, yes, that's right. She's Nina Tucker, isn't she?" the Doctor asked, looking up from the receiver.  
  
"Correct. Doctor, not meaning to be rude, but shouldn't you be focusing on this right now?" the Brigadier commented, tapping the receiver.  
  
"Ah, yes," the Doctor said, looking back down. There was a picture coming up now, albeit not a very clear one. From what the Brigadier could make out, it showed the footman they'd seen earlier, apparently seen through somebody else's eyes.  
  
"From Miss Spencer's point of view, correct?" the Brigadier asked the Doctor.  
  
"Exactly, Brigadier," the Doctor smiled. "I'll make a scientist of you yet."  
  
"I don't think I'll ever get that far, Doctor," the Brigadier replied, as he watched the screen. Now the footman was walking towards a nearby shed, tucked away in the corner of the garden outside the hall. He opened the door, and after a brief pause, Nina entered the shed.  
  
"Too bad there isn't any sound," the Brigadier commented.  
  
"Well, I could only wire this receiver up to her visual nerves, Brigadier," the Doctor sighed. "I just didn't have the time to set up a full sensory receiver in two days. We'll just have to make do."  
  
Now Nina was heading down some steep steps inside the shed, and there was a door in front of her. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, as though in a prayer, she opened the door.  
  
"Oh dear," the Doctor said simply, as the sight behind the door became more obvious. It was a large room, almost the size of the hall the two of them were standing in, but there was only one large table in the centre of the room, with a great many chairs standing around it. Several of the chairs were already taken, with one at the end of the table in shadow for some reason. Sitting beside him was a woman. She was short, no more than five foot two, but looked very voluptuous, even in the smart black suit she was wearing. Her jet-black hair, flecked only slightly by some streaks of grey, was trimmed quite short with only the vaguest hint of a side parting. It looked soft and smooth, like velvet, or a cat's fur. There were about five empty chairs at the end of the table, and around the table were a few smaller tables with drinks and biscuits on them. At the other end of the room were two large doors, made of wood.  
  
"Doesn't look like too much," the Doctor said to his friend, as Nina stared around her at everyone at the table.  
  
"True," the Brigadier replied. However, he wasn't listening, his attention all focused on the woman. She seemed somehow familiar, but he couldn't quite remember who she'd been. His memory for names during his UNIT days had been getting terrible in recent times...  
  
"Ah, Miss Spencer," the figure at the end of the table said. "Do sit down. I am Commander Harper, and this," here he indicated the woman sitting beside him, "is my second-in-command, General Kyle."  
  
"WHAT?!" the Brigadier yelled. This caused several people in the room to stop dancing and briefly glance over in his direction, before concluding that a man shouting wasn't any of their business, and then started to dance again.  
  
I can't believe that you  
  
Pull on a sleeve  
  
When you cry (When you cry)  
  
You stick in the knife  
  
And need the kiss of life-  
  
Live the lie (Live the lie)  
  
We all have a saviour  
  
So do yourself a favour  
  
Stop living the lie  
  
"Brigadier, please, stay quiet," the Doctor whispered, as he twisted a few dials on the screen and the sound suddenly vanished. "What's the problem?"  
  
"It's Marianne Kyle, Doctor!" the Brigadier whispered. "That woman from the alternate timeline you visited in the Inferno crisis, who we dealt with while you and Miss Grant were at Peladon!"  
  
"Her?" the Doctor said, looking at the screen again. As he tapped a few of the buttons, the screen's picture suddenly changed. It now showed Marianne Kyle alone, but she looked remarkably different. She was literally glowing blue on the screen- a dull glow admittedly, and with shimmering edges, but still glowing.  
  
"What does that mean?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"That she's travelled in Time, Brigadier," the Doctor replied, as he started to move the dials back to show the other people at the table. "The shimmering indicates that she's out of sync with this Universe, you-" he began to say, when he suddenly he froze, staring at the man beside Kyle. He was glowing blue with shimmering edges as well, but a lot brighter than Kyle was.  
  
"What in the world?" the Brigadier said.  
  
"Hang on a minute..." the Doctor said, as he began to fiddle with some of the other dials. "Let's just see what this fellow looks like..." he muttered, as the picture on the screen instantly altered. The shadows had been removed, and General Harper was in full light now. He was wearing a dark suit, and his was very cruel and thin, with hair underneath his lip. He had a moustache, a large nose, dark eyes, and his hair, which was black, was receding from his forehead.  
  
"Not a very pleasant-looking fellow, is he?" the Brigadier said, looking over at the Doctor, expecting a simple nod or some other sign of agreement. However, the Doctor did not look like his usual calm self, and was staring at the screen with a look of pure horror on his face.  
  
"Oh no..." he said, staring at the screen. "Oh no...not him...anyone but him..."  
  
"Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"How?" the Doctor said to himself, not paying attention to his friend. "How can he be here at the same time as me? Unless, of course, it's because he doesn't posses the exact same biodata as me, and therefore it doesn't destabilise reality. Of course, it might also be because his TARDIS has been holding things stable all this time..." "What?" the Brigadier asked. "Doctor, what in blazes are you talking about? Who is that man?"  
  
"What?" the Doctor asked, looking up at his friend. At the same time, he switched off the receiver, and the screen went back to its original blackness. "Who is he, Brigadier? A saviour of the Universe, and an indirect murderer of a world." He groaned a little. "And someone I prayed I'd never face..."  
  
"Doctor, will you please stop talking in riddles. Who is that fellow?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"Me, Brigadier," the Doctor said, looking up at him. "Technically, he's my third self." 


	7. The First Meeting

Chapter Six  
The First Meeting  
  
The Brigadier stared at the Doctor, as his jaw dropped. He could barely comprehend what he'd just heard. Then, finally, he managed to get out the question he needed to ask. "H...how?"  
  
"How is he me?" the Doctor replied, looking at his friend. "It's quite simple. You recall my visit to that alternate universe during the Stahlman affair?"  
  
"Yes, of course," the Brigadier answered.  
  
"Quite," the Doctor smiled. But it was a cold smile, the smile of a man scared by something unimaginably terrible. "Well, anyway, in a trip to this planet's moon, about thirteen years ago-"  
  
"By your time scale, or Earth's?" the Brigadier interrupted.  
  
"Both, give or take a few months for Earth. Anyway, in the process, I discovered something about the Dictator of that reality, based on pictures I'd seen of his face on posters."  
  
"That being...?" the Brigadier asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.  
  
"That his face was one of the faces I was offered at my trial, shortly before my exile," the Doctor said, grimly. "I rejected that face here, and all the others. The Time Lords had my new face formed at random- the me you knew best. However, in that reality, things were a lot different..."  
  
"Ah," the Brigadier said, as the full implications sunk in. "So, he's a you that might have had, but weren't because you made a different choice from him."  
  
"That's about it," the Doctor said, as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver, removed the back of the receiver and began to fiddle around with its workings. "We have to get Nina out of there, Brigadier. That man was once me, and he took over an entire world. He's definitely not all there in the sanity department."  
  
"Yes, quite," the Brigadier said, a little put off by the fact the Doctor had said all that while looking constantly at the receiver's components. "Look, Doctor, what exactly are you doing there?"  
  
"Trying to reverse the frequency of the receiver," the Doctor explained, as he burned a chip out of the receiver and then fused it back inside, but the other way round. "If this works, I should be able to use this thing to broadcast a warning directly into Nina's brain and tell her to get out of there before the Dictator finds out about her."  
  
"How would he do that?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"I am capable of basic telepathy, Brigadier," the Doctor explained, as he began to tap away at a few buttons on the receiver. "If we don't get her out now, we may have a problem."  
  
The Brigadier thought back to his own personal encounters with the Master. The time-bending affair at Cambridge was the one that was the most prominent in his memory, but then there was his last encounter with him during that Gaderene invasion. Neither of them were exactly the sort of thing he wanted to go through again, especially not in his current time of life.  
  
"Go on, Doctor, he said simply.  
  
"We're basically ready now, Brigadier," the Doctor replied, as he turned the receiver round so that the screen was facing him again. "I'll just see how Nina's doing, and then send the message."  
  
*****  
  
Inside the room, Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Commander Harper talked to everyone at the table. The seats had seemed rather comfortable when she first sat down, but after only a few minutes it was getting sore, and a little hot. Besides, after everything she'd read about the Cortez Project in the files, as far as she was concerned Harper was just sprouting so much hot air at her and all the others. All that junk at the beginning, about being prepared to fight everything they'd so much as read about in files, from Autons to Zygons, had really been enough for her to listen to, and she didn't feel like listening to any more of it.  
  
"...wouldn't you agree, Miss Spencer?" his voice said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts like a rock through a window. Looking up, Nina noticed Harper staring at her with a very focused look in his eyes.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah, absolutely," Nina said.  
  
"I see," Harper replied, looking at her with a sudden smirk. "So, you agree with me when I say that the Doctor, who we know for a fact is helping these alien invaders, is a good man?" He looked around at the rest of the table. "While I attend to our 'friend' here, why don't the rest of you just leave us in peace?" he suggested.  
  
Nodding, the people at the table got out of their seats and headed for the door at the end of the hall. Nina briefly thought about making a run for it, but the two men standing on either side of the door gave the general impression that that wouldn't be a good idea. Behind the door, Nina noticed a long table, covered with all kinds of snacks, salads and cold meats, much more than there was in this room.  
  
As the door slammed shut behind the last person, Harper looked at Nina with a cold hatred in his eyes. "Now, Miss Spencer, we shall have a little chat."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Nina asked, trying to look puzzled. "I was just thinking about something else at the time-"  
  
"You weren't even listening to a single word I was saying there," Harper replied. "The only reason you wouldn't listen would be if you knew a bit more about the Cortez Project than some others." Raising one arm, he beckoned to two men standing behind him. "Secure her."  
  
As the two men advanced forward, Nina leapt out of her seat and faced them. Privately, she had a theory that she could hold these guys off for a while if she restricted herself to using her hands, but she wasn't sure if it would be enough against her opponents. She'd taken some basic combat lesson after joining UNIT, it was a standard requirement, but these guys looked like they had a lot more muscle then her. Also, there was the fact that she was wearing a dress, while her opponent had on perfectly clean business suits- they'd have a lot more mobility in a fight, and they had the advantage in numbers as well.  
  
Dammit! Nina thought, as one of the men started to charge towards her, his hands out in front as though to catch her. Quickly, with the fast mind that had made her a scientist, she hit upon the only way to avoid him, with her restricted leg mobility. Grabbing the back of a chair, she vaulted herself to the left, just in time to dodge the man. Unable to stop himself, he ran straight into the wall, hitting himself on the head. As Nina glanced back to check on him, he slumped to the ground.  
  
Dead to the world, Nina thought to herself. However, just as she was about to turn around, a pair of strong arms suddenly grabbed her around the chest. Cursing, Nina remembered the second man, forgotten in her brief rush to escape the first one.  
  
"Oops, huh?" the man smirked into her ear.  
  
"Yeah, but to who?" Nina asked, as she clenched her left fist.  
  
"Huh?" the man said, as he looked down and saw her arm moving.  
  
"Take...this!" Nina yelled, as she dug her elbow into the man's stomach. The man grunted in pain and relaxed his hold for a brief moment. That was all she needed. Quickly, Nina ducked underneath the man's arms and spun around to face him. As he looked up to face her, she rapidly drove her knee into his slowly rising chin. She heard a satisfying crunch as his teeth thudded together, and he doubled over, clutching his mouth in pain. Rounding it off with a quick karate chop to the back of the neck, Nina watched with a smile as the man collapsed to the ground. Dusting her hands, she turned back to face Harper, who appeared utterly unfazed by her quick dispatch of his guards.  
  
"Not all that tough, were they, Miss Spencer?" Harper asked her, as he placed his fingers together and stared at her. "Well, I'll have to try a little harder to take you down."  
  
"Oh, really?" Nina asked, as she raised her arms and took up a defensive stance, facing Harper. "Well, why don't you bring it on?"  
  
"Very well," Harper said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out...  
  
Well, Nina wasn't really sure what it was. It appeared to be a wide, flat, unmarked dish with some kind of handle on the back of it, with a small red button attached, but how it had managed to fit in his pocket was beyond Nina.  
  
"What the heck is that?" Nina asked, as she stared at it with complete bafflement. "This? Oh, just a little something I whipped up in my spare time," Harper smiled, as he aimed it at Nina. "I just need a test subject to see if it works the way I wanted it too. And here you are... thank you, by the way."  
  
And with that, he pushed the button.  
  
Suddenly, Nina felt herself lift up from the floor, and something start to tighten around her. Looking around, she tried to see what was supporting and crushing her at the same time, but she couldn't see a thing. It was as though the very air and wind had decided to concentrate itself on her alone, in that one location, and was trying to grind her chest into dust.  
  
"A little force field generator of my own creation, which I pieced together about sixteen years ago, give or take," Harper smiled, indicating the device as he raised his feet onto the table and lay back in his chair. "Of course, I've had to alter its original structure. I mean, originally this thing was meant to protect people. I simply configured it to cover someone and then close in on them. I would estimate you haven't got long before it starts to enter your body via every various entrances it can find- maybe two or so minutes. So, let's got down to business." Swinging his feet off the table, he rested his left elbow on the table, put his chin in his had, and glared at her. "Who sent you here?"  
  
"G' t' hell..." Nina grunted weakly, as the force field began to close in on her more and more. Privately, she wished she could have gotten something better out, but she didn't have the oxygen to say something longer.  
  
"Really? You have the energy for insults at a time like this?" Harper said, grinning a grin that reminded Nina a little of Colonel Disch. "You have more spirit than I thought. However, that won't help you here." He swung his chair around, got out of his seat, and then walked towards Nina, holding the generator in front of him all the time. "I don't approve of spirit in humans, Miss Spencer. It's just yet another of the qualities I have found myself getting so weary off in your species in this regeneration. Now, talk."  
  
Even in her current agony, Nina had taken in one key word in that statement that Harper had made.  
  
Regeneration. What the Doctor, and other Time Lords, did whenever they were fatally injured. Nanotechnology in their blood reorganized their cells and rebuilt them in a completely different form, according to a file she'd read somewhere. But in that case...  
  
"You're a... Time Lord!" she gasped, as she felt something start to tighten around the bottom of her dress.  
  
"Ah, you know of my species?" Harper smiled, as he suddenly pushed the button on the generator again. Instantly, Nina felt the force field stop crushing her, although it was still holding her up and supporting her in the air. "Well, that certainly answers my question. There's only one Time Lord in this universe stupid enough to actually reveal our existence to a ridiculous primitive like you. And, if I'm right, his name would be...the Doctor?"  
  
Nina couldn't help herself. Horrified, she glanced down at Harper, and saw him staring up at her smugly. He seemed almost certain that he was right. Inwardly, however, a sudden thought had just occurred to her. If Harper knew about the Doctor, and was a Time Lord as well, then he was more than likely...  
  
...the Dictator!  
  
"Ah, good, I see from your eyes I'm correct," Harper said, smiling as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a needle. "I presume you can guess what this is?"  
  
"Truth drug?" Nina asked, although she had a sinking feeling that it was something a little more effective than what she was used to on Earth. Harper, or the Dictator, or whoever he was, seemed to be the most evil thing Nina had ever encountered or read about. The Master may have been a bad bit of work, but at least he had generally treated humans with a certain degree of respect- the Doctor had told her, over a few glasses of wine with the Brigadier the other night, that the Master did acknowledge that humans had a certain creative streak that Time Lords lacked. Harper seemed to just view her, and all the other humans in the room earlier, as just things. For all he cared, they might as well all have had the intellect of a village idiot.  
  
"Well, I suppose that is basically what it is," the Dictator smiled, as he began to walk towards Nina, twirling the needle in his fingers. "I could go into more detail, but I'd just be wasting my breath. Now then..." he said, as he raised one hand and brushed a strand of dark hair away from her neck, "will you be willingly telling me everything you know about me and my activities here on Earth, or do I need to use this?" he asked, raising the needle. Suddenly, he seemed to make a decision. He put the needle and the force field generator down on the table. "I'll give you time to make your mind up," he said, looking up at her with an annoying, self-certain smirk on hi s face. "I need to make sure my guests aren't bored."  
  
With that, he headed towards the wooden door. Just as he was about to leave, he looked back at her again. "You only have five minutes, Miss Spencer. In that time, you have a choice to make. You either tell me what I want to know willingly, or I get you to tell me by force."  
  
Then, he left the building.  
  
Swallowing, Nina stared at the needle as it lay on the table. If she didn't talk willingly, he'd get the answer out of her anyway. But, based on what she'd seen of his mental state so far, she doubted that he'd let her go when she'd told him everything.  
  
Come on, Doc, she thought briefly, as she continued to stare at the needle.  
  
*****  
  
Meanwhile, up in the hall, the Doctor and the Brigadier had been watching this whole scenario unfold on the receiver. From the moment that Nina had been trapped in the force field, the Doctor had been trying to think up another plan to get Nina out of there, but now it looked like his chances to get her out were constantly getting lower.  
  
"Any ideas as to what we do, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, as the needle waved back and forth in front of Nina's eyes. Briefly he felt an itch in his throat, and longed to just finish this thing so he could get that distorter off his voice box.  
  
"One," the Doctor said, as he turned away from the screen, looking directly at the stage. "Can you see if there's an operator for that Time Radio?"  
  
The Brigadier squinted at the stage. He may have been nearly seventy-five by now, and well past retirement age, but his eyes were still as sharp as they'd ever been. There was someone standing just behind that gigantic contraption, now that he was looking for it, but he was wearing something so dark it was hard to see him or her clearly.  
  
"I think so," the Brigadier said. "It's hard to make out any distinguishing features, but I'm fairly sure I can see someone there."  
  
"Perfect," the Doctor smiled, as he slipped the receiver back into his pocket. "At least I know he's there. Now, we just need to get around there without anybody noticing..." he said to himself, as he glanced around the hall. His eyes fell upon a large bowl of fruit punch, standing on a table to the left of the main stage.  
  
"That?" the Brigadier asked, as he noticed where the Doctor was staring.  
  
"That," the Doctor smiled, as he reached into another pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "A shame really, but I haven't much choice," he said to himself, as he reached down and began to fiddle with the screwdriver's settings.  
  
"Shall I get moving?" the Brigadier asked, as the Doctor raised the screwdriver.  
  
"Just a moment," the Doctor said, as he pushed a button on the screwdriver. Almost instantly, the punch bowl shattered into dozens of pieces, spraying the punch everywhere.  
  
"What the...?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"How'd that...?"  
  
"What just...?"  
  
The Brigadier heard several voices call out those words and more, as everyone in the hall turned around and stared at the punch bowl. "It worked!" he whispered excitedly to the Doctor.  
  
"Yes, it did, didn't it?" the Doctor smiled, as he indicated the stage. "Now, while they're distracted, run for the door!"  
  
Following his friend's advice, the Brigadier ran for the nearby door as the rest of the hall gathered around the table, the punch already staining the tablecloth. No sooner had they reached the door than the Doctor had his sonic screwdriver at the keyhole, and was constantly twisting his hand around.  
  
"Doctor..." the Brigadier said, as some people around the punch started to lose interest and begin to turn.  
  
"Brigadier, don't distract me!" the Doctor whispered back fiercely, as he rotated the screwdriver left again. "We're just...about... there...now!" As soon as the words had left his mouth, the door opened. Quickly, the Doctor grabbed the Brigadier by the arm and ran into the door, slamming it shut behind him.  
  
The Brigadier blinked a little as he glanced around at his surroundings. There hadn't been a lot of light in the hall, but here the lighting was bright enough so that he didn't have to look twice to gather what he was staring at. There wasn't all that much there either- just a few stairs leading upwards to another door.  
  
Looking over at the Doctor, who was standing on the stairs a little upwards of him, the Brigadier noticed that he was rummaging through his pockets, apparently trying to find something.  
  
"Doctor?" he asked, tapping the Time Lord on the shoulder. The Doctor glanced round, but continued to rummage away. "What are you looking for, exactly?"  
  
"Earplugs," the Doctor stated simply, never stopping his constant shifts from pocket to pocket. The Brigadier had never known that a tuxedo could have so many pockets. "I'm planning on using the sonic screwdriver to emit a low-level frequency to send the Operator into a temporary coma, but hopefully not take down anyone in the main hall. However, to make sure we aren't knocked out as well, we need earplugs so we can't hear the sound either."  
  
"I see," the Brigadier said. Privately, he was wondering what the practical benefit of all this would be, but he was sure the Doctor knew what he was doing.  
  
"Ah, perfect!" the Doctor said, as he pulled out four small white bits of plastic. He passed two of them to the Brigadier. "Just slip them into your ear hole and they'll mould themselves to fit it perfectly. Once you've got them in, just follow me." With that, he slipped his plugs into his ears and headed towards the door.  
  
Shrugging a little, the Brigadier picked up his plugs and slipped them into his ears. To his surprise, they were remarkably effective. The key thing he noticed was the lack of a creak. When the Doctor had started walking up the stairs in front of him, there was a clearly audible creaking to be heard on the steps. Now, there wasn't event he faintest sound of it.  
  
Reaching the top of the steps, the Doctor turned to the left and positioned his sonic screwdriver in front of the door's lock. As the Brigadier arrived beside his friend, the Doctor was already twisting his hand around in front of the lock, working away at opening the door.  
  
This time, it didn't take as long as the other door. Presumably the Operator (As the Brigadier was beginning to think of him) had simply assumed that nobody would be able to sneak up the steps without him or anyone else noticing, so he simply hadn't locked the door that much. After a few seconds, the door swung open. Looking back, the Doctor gave the Brigadier thumbs up, and then walked through the door. The Brigadier followed on behind.  
  
In front of them, on the stage, the Time Radio stood, looking a lot more complex now that the Brigadier was looking at it from behind. There were a great deal of monitors arrayed around the top of it, and there was a sort of keypad positioned just below that. Privately, the Brigadier wondered how the Operator managed to keep track of all those controls, but now wasn't the time to ask the Doctor about that.  
  
Meanwhile, beside him the Doctor was fiddling around with the sonic screwdriver's settings, changing it to some other new frequency somehow. As the Brigadier watched, the Doctor nodded at him with a slight grin on his face, and then raised the sonic screwdriver so that it was pointing at the Operator. He pushed a switch, activating the screwdriver.  
  
At first, there wasn't any noticeable difference in the Operator. He just stood there behind the Time Radio, working away at the control like nothing had even happened. Then, he suddenly removed one hand from the control panel and started to massage his head, as though he was in pain. Then, he removed the other hand, and let the Time Radio just keep on playing. Then, as the song started to approach its end, he groaned, his eyes rolled, and he fell to the ground.  
  
Smiling, the Doctor reached up to his ears and removed the plugs. The Brigadier did the same, and instantly sound returned to his ears.  
  
"Well, that worked out well," the Doctor said, as he went over to the Operator and checked his pulse. The Brigadier noticed, with some surprise, that the 'Operator' was Private Simpton, a solider he'd met briefly during that affair with the Jex and the Canavatchi.  
  
"Evil. You never know where it hides, do you?" the Brigadier said, almost half to himself.  
  
"Pardon?" the Doctor asked, glancing up form the floor, where he'd been making sure Simpton's heart wasn't damaged.  
  
"Oh, nothing," the Brigadier replied, shaking himself back to reality. "I was just think about the many faces evil seems to be taking these days. I mean, you remember this man, Doctor?"  
  
"Hmm?" the Doctor asked, as he crouched down and took a look at Simpton. "Oh yes, Private Simpton." He looked up at the Brigadier. "I see what you mean about evil, Brigadier. I never would have thought he'd go to the Project."  
  
The Brigadier simply nodded. Staring down at Simpton, he bowed his head, spending a few private moments in memory of all those other soldiers he'd lost. Whether it had been because they had been killed, or whether they had turned traitor of everything they'd once believed in, they had still been taken.  
  
Patting Simpton on the hand lightly, the Brigadier stood up again and indicated the Time Radio. "Let's get this over with, Doctor."  
  
"As an old friend of mine once wrote, 'Seconded, thirded and motion carried'," the Doctor smiled. "But first," he added, as he suddenly walked around to the control console, "I'd better give these people something to listen to." Quickly, he tapped a few controls, and instantly, a new song came out of the radio.  
  
Just a day, just an ordinary day  
  
Just trying to get by  
  
Just a boy just an ordinary boy but  
  
He was looking to the sky  
  
"Vanessa Carlton, 'Ordinary Day'," the Doctor smiled, as he swiftly reset his sonic screwdriver, crouched down beside the Radio, and began to work away at the metal rods that held it to the stage. Starting at the top left corner, he slowly raised his sonic screwdriver up, and watched as it dragged the rod up the way with it.  
  
As the Brigadier crouched down beside him, the Doctor grabbed one of the rods and slipped it into his pocket, before moving onto the next.  
  
Just as the crowd had started to move away form the shattered punch bowl, the Doctor suddenly stopped working on the left side and began to move over to the other side. As he passed by the control panel, he took a quick look at the control panel again, and seemed to be satisfied with how things were going. Then, simply nodding at the Brigadier, he ducked back down again and began to work away at the second pair of rods.  
  
"Doctor, what exactly are you planning?" the Brigadier whispered.  
  
"In a moment, Brigadier," the Doctor replied, as he removed another plug and put it away with the others. "First, do me a favour and turn the volume up on the control panel."  
  
"The volume?" the Brigadier asked, as he got up and stared at the panel. It looked a bit more complicated than the Doctor and the Operator had made out when they were working it- a great deal of the controls had letters on them that reminded the Brigadier of what he'd seen of ancient High Gallifreyian writing, and what few dials there were had a numerical system that he didn't understand at all.  
  
"Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, leaning over to look at his friend. "What dial controls the volume on this thing?"  
  
"Oh, I don't have the time to give all the details," the Doctor said, reaching up and waving one hand vaguely at one corner of the panel. "Just try the dial around there. Turn it up, by the way, not down."  
  
"I see..." the Brigadier said, as he looked at the corner that the Doctor had indicated to him. Unfortunately, there were two dials on it, and the Brigadier couldn't be certain which one did which. For all he knew, the Dictator had been so deranged as to implant a dial on this thing that could kill everyone in the hall.  
  
Taking a chance, the Brigadier reached over to one of the dials, the one with the most numbers on it. Somehow, he doubted the Dictator would have given a dial that could kill people more than two settings- for him, it would be either on or off.  
  
He turned the dial up a few figures.  
  
Instantly, the volume increased to nearly double its original noise. Several people standing near it clutched their ears in pain, and everyone moved back several feet to protect their ears.  
  
"Was that intended?!" the Brigadier yelled at the Doctor over the sudden outburst of sound.  
  
"Yes, Brigadier!" the Doctor yelled back. Suddenly, and without any warning, he reached up to the back of neck, took off his modified Takei mask, stuffed it into his tux's pocket, and tore the distorter off. "Now," he yelled, his voice back to its customary Scottish burr, "get that mask off and help me out here!"  
  
The Brigadier's mask had been getting very uncomfortable lately, and he was only too glad for an excuse to take it off. Reaching back behind his neck, he tugged the mask off his head and the distorter from his throat.  
  
"What now?!" the Brigadier yelled. Privately, he was glad to hear his normal voice again, but there wasn't any time to get used to it again.  
  
"Push this over!" the Doctor yelled, as he placed his shoulder against the Radio and began to push.  
  
"What?!" the Brigadier cried, a he joined his friend's shoves at the Radio.  
  
"If we can...push this over..." the Doctor gasped, straining a little with the energy needed, "it should...create a long...enough...distraction...for us to...save Nina!" "I...see!" the Brigadier yelled back. Turning the volume up made a lot more sense now that this had been revealed- the Doctor had wanted to make sure that nobody was hurt when he pushed the Radio over.  
  
"Almost...there!" the Doctor said, as he felt the Radio give. It moved forward a few inches.  
  
Gritting his teeth, the Brigadier shoved with all his strength again, and forced his corner of the Radio forward. Glancing around the side, he saw that one corner was hanging off the edge of the stage.  
  
Grimly, the Brigadier got himself back into his original position, and shoved again. The Doctor, meanwhile, was also making progress- now, both their sides of the Time Radio were hanging over the edge of the stage.  
  
"One...last...PUSH!!" the Doctor yelled. Instantly, the Time Radio fell, crashing into the wooden floorboards beneath them.  
  
The Radio was so heavy that it broke right through the floor, causing the floorboards to fly up into the sky and hit the walls. The back half of the Radio also broke off in some places, and began to burn from where it was exposed to the air. What he could see of the inside of the machine reminded the Brigadier of some of the TARDIS circuitry that he'd seen the Doctor work on in the early days, but there were several other parts that he didn't recognise at all.  
  
"It worked!" the Doctor smiled, as he looked up at the action in the hall. Looking at the hall himself, the Brigadier saw what he meant- several people were running towards the Radio, and others were running away from it, but all attention was still focused on the Radio.  
  
"Quick!" the Doctor yelled, as he grabbed the Brigadier's arm and leapt off the stage. The Brigadier briefly winced as he landed, but a few seconds later he was running after the Doctor as fast as he could. However, that wasn't as fast as it could have been- sometimes, the Brigadier forgot that he was almost seventy- four now, instead of the forty he'd been when he'd first met the Doctor.  
  
"Oh, sorry about that, Brigadier," the Doctor said, as he arrived at a nearby door and opened it. "I tend to forget you're not as young as you used to be."  
  
"Well, at least I'm not the only one," the Brigadier said, smiling at his friend.  
  
"Yes, well, time for that later," the Doctor said, as he opened the door and waved the Brigadier through it. "We have to stop the Dictator. It almost cost Benton and I our lives to take him out when he was only a bank robber. He's not going to change history on this kind of scale." For a brief moment, the Doctor looked a little sad. "And I won't lose any more friends..."  
  
"Like Miss Aldwych, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.  
  
"Exactly," the Doctor said, as he and the Brigadier ran towards the shed. Briefly, outside the door of the shed, just before he went in, the Brigadier remembered Claire Aldwych, an old friend of him and the Doctor in the clown- like coat.  
  
A friend dead at the hands of the Third Reich, used as a double for Hitler's wife, Eva Braun.  
  
He wouldn't allow Miss Spencer to be added to that list.  
  
"Brigadier, come on!" the Doctor yelled, waving him in from the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Coming, Doctor," the Brigadier replied, as he ran down the stairs.  
  
"I only hope we're not too late..." the Doctor said, as he reached for the door handle.  
  
*****  
  
Swallowing, Nina stared at the door in front of her as it slowly swung open, and the Dictator came out of it. He'd changed from his original suit into an outfit that reminded Nina of World War Two films of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, except the swastika on his arm had a background that looked like an extremely fancy figure of eight instead of the normal white circle.  
  
"What's with the threads, Dictator? Trying to impress anybody?" Nina gasped, as he walked over to the table and picked up the force field and the needle.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Miss Spencer," the Dictator replied, as he twirled the needle in his right hand. "I simply couldn't stand that ridiculous suit any longer- I wore it for nearly one hundred and five years where I come from and I really didn't want to keep on wearing it if I can avoid it," he smirked, smiling at her.  
  
Nina didn't even bother to reply to that, although she had been thinking up some decent put- downs during her time in the air. She was too busy trying to handle what Harper had just said. He'd lived for over a hundred and five years...!  
  
"What, so you're only six hundred and... what is it, ten? Eleven?" a familiar Scottish accent said from the other end of the room.  
  
"Doctor!" Nina yelled, relieved to finally have a little help. "Some assistance over here?"  
  
"Just a minute, Nina," the Doctor said as he walked in front of her and stared at the Dictator. "So, you're what might have been. I have to say, as my alternates go, you're one of the less pleasant versions."  
  
"Ah, Doctor," the Dictator replied, as he slipped the needle into his pocket and faced his opponent. Privately, Nina wondered where that thought had come from, but then decided it fitted the scenario anyway. The way the Doctor and the Dictator were looking at each other, Nina wouldn't have been surprised if one of them punched the other. "So good to see you again."  
  
"I'm not sorry I can't say the same thing to you," the Doctor replied, as his eyes flicked over the Dictator's clothes. "I see you haven't changed your costume since we last met."  
  
"You have, I see," the Dictator countered. "Along with practically everything else. Which model's this, fourth?"  
  
"Seventh, actually," the Doctor replied. "The third was shot, the fourth fell, the fifth caught a virus, and the sixth got trapped in a tractor beam."  
  
"You've used up four lives since we faced each other?" the Dictator smiled. "I've not even lost one! Rassilon's beard, you're one careless son of an Othering Other!"  
  
"Well, you've just been lying around here on Earth trying to destroy the future, haven't you?" the Doctor countered, an angry look on his face. "Whereas I have been trying to prevent the Universe being taken over by all evil in creation and its second cousins once removed every weekend, and spent the other five days dealing with attempts to take some part of it over. You haven't been sticking your neck out for anyone, have you?"  
  
"Hey, I just look out for the greatest intellect the Universe has ever produced, OK?" the Dictator replied, matching the Doctor's expression.  
  
As the Doctor and Harper talked, Nina heard the door open again, and caught the faintest sound of a footstep on the ground. However, neither Harper nor the Doctor turned around at the sound, so Nina dismissed it from her mind.  
  
*****  
  
"You really think you're that intelligent?" the Doctor countered to the Dictator. "I'll have you know that I still had some way to go towards being the smartest thing in the Universe when we diverge from each other, and given that you've spent the past century or so of your life stuck on Earth, I doubt you're smarter than me even now!"  
  
"Who said I had to be smarter than you?" the Dictator smirked back at the Doctor in reply. "I simply have acknowledged a few simple truths about the Universe that you can't seem to comprehend."  
  
"Those being?" the Doctor asked, waving his hand in a circle.  
  
"That evil will always be here," the Dictator replied, looking so smug now that Nina wanted to hit him. "That every man has the seeds of darkness within him. That the only thing keeping back a complete collapse of society from that darkness is man's basic impotence and fear. That evil is superior to good at every turn, even at the very end of existence. Why do you deny that?"  
  
The Doctor looked back at the Dictator, his will almost causing visible tension in the air. "For one very simple reason, Dictator."  
  
"Which is?" the Dictator asked, smiling a little. He seemed confident that his argument could not be rebutted.  
  
"Because I simply won't accept it," the Doctor replied, looking directly at Harper's eyes. "Because I believe that no force is ever so strong as to be indestructible. Everyone has a weak point, and I believe that I will find the best locations to apply the pressure required to make them stop. Because I have seen even the mightiest of empire fall apart simply because they developed a small crack somewhere. Besides, no future is ever written in stone. As you once knew yourself, a whole lifetime ago."  
  
The Dictator looked back at the Doctor, with something approaching disdain in his expression. "You really think you can make that much of a difference, Doctor? I gave up on that a long time ago. I joined the winning team. Why won't you?"  
  
"I told you," the Doctor stated simply. "Because I believe in order."  
  
"Well, then, Mr I-believe-in-order, take...THIS!" the Dictator yelled, as he suddenly ducked down and swung one arm in a karate chop at the Doctor's legs. The Doctor fell like a ton of bricks onto the floor, struck too fast to even think of reacting. "You're going down. And then I'm taking your friend, Miss Spencer, as..." he said, his voice suddenly faltering as he looked over at where Nina had been hanging in the air earlier. At some point during his argument with the Doctor, she had just vanished...  
  
"Looking for me?" a voice said. Looking behind him, the Dictator saw Nina standing there, her left hand on her hip while her right was holding a small wooden truncheon.  
  
"I really hate being treated like I'm the village idiot, Harper," Nina said simply. With that, she swung the baton, and struck Harper in the left side of the face.  
  
It was the last thing the Dictator felt before he collapsed.  
  
*****  
  
Clutching the wound, the Dictator slowly fell down to the floor, dark red blood leaking from the mess that had been his cheekbone.  
  
"Good hit, Nina," the Doctor smiled, as he got up from the floor. "Oh, and thank you as well, Brigadier," he said, nodding at the Brigadier's position from the other side of the table. He'd noticed the Brigadier sneak over to the table while he talked with the Dictator, so he'd kept him occupied long enough for the Brigadier to free Nina.  
  
"Anything else needing done, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, as Nina handed him back the baton and he slipped it into his pocket.  
  
"No, Brigadier," the Doctor replied. "We know who Harper truly is, and that's enough for the moment."  
  
"You know?" Nina asked, looking in between her two friends. "Who is he?"  
  
The Doctor and the Brigadier exchanged a rather guilty look. Personally, the Doctor was uncomfortable already, and he really didn't want to discuss his darker side with Nina until all of them were safely hidden away in the TARDIS.  
  
"I'll explain later," the Doctor said, as he turned away and headed for the door. "Right now, we have several Cortez soldiers trying to tame a fire in the hall, and we should really get away before anyone else finds us here with him," he finished, indicating the Dictator.  
  
"OK, but just one thing first," Nina said. Walking over to stand beside the Dictator, she kicked him in the groin.  
  
"All right, let's go," she said, as the Doctor opened the door. Instantly, she and the Brigadier raced out of the door, the Doctor following on close behind.  
  
Privately, the Doctor was already going over the conversation he'd have with Nina when he got back. How do you explain to a friend that your nemesis is, technically, you...? 


End file.
